All were drinking freely save myself, and by-and-by the conversation grew oddly intimate and the manners most unrestrained. Miss Manning held the hand of the young man who sat beside her, and spoke freely of her “angel” up the State, who was going to marry her; and I could not hold up my head or heart in the midst of it, and excused myself and left them with a kind of world-sickness in me--the first touch of it that I had known. Yet, as the friend of a noble gentleman, I thanked God for it all, and the great soul of McCarthy himself could not have felt a keener pity. I telegraphed to my friend that I had finished my work, and next evening he met me at the St. Nicholas. He came into my room and pressed my hand eagerly, and asked: “What's new?” “Nothing,” I said; “it's a rather old story.” “You saw Miss Manning?” “Yes.” “And gave her the check?” “No; I return the check to you,” I said, and briefly gave my reasons. “Heron, most any one can obey orders, but the man who knows enough to disobey them to save a principal is above price,” he said, as he shook my hand again. “I couldn't say a word of my suspicions, for, you know, one has to be careful not to injure a lady. For fear of that I couldn't bring myself to engage a detective to watch her--it seemed so brutal and ruthless and cold-blooded.” He turned away, and for a moment neither spoke. “I was sure that you would know how to do the errand,” he added. . Mr. McCarthy drew a letter from his pocket and flung it on the table, and said: “You will understand me when you have read that.” I drew the letter from the envelope, and read as follows: Mr. McCarthy,--You are being deceived, and I write to warn you about Miss Manning. If you or any friend of yours would go to her hotel unexpected, almost any evening about dinner-time, you could learn where to find her. I could tell you many things, but you might as well learn them for yourself. A Well-Wisher. “I think it was written by her maid,” said McCarthy, as I returned the letter. “But come, come, we are due at the Commodore's.” We hurried away, and as we left the inn I could not help thinking how cleverly he had planned my errand of good-will. CHAPTER IV.--IN WHICH WE MEET TWO GREAT MEN [Illustration: 9278] E took an omnibus, and were presently in the big house on Washington Square. “Hello, young man!” said the Commodore, as he took the hand of McCarthy. “Going out to the stable to look at a sick horse. Come along!” He donned his overcoat, which had a collar of gray fur of about the shade of his hair, and it put a wonderful finish on him. I never saw in all my life a better figure of a man.