'I might have expected it,' he said. 'We all know that love is stronger than friendship. The first woman that likes can break up the strongest attachments of some men.' 'Silence!' cried Prescott. 'I am not going to bandy retorts with you. Ever since we were boys I have liked you and befriended you, and borne with your waywardness. You have outraged all your other friends long ago, but I bore with everything till now. But this is too much. Where a life is at stake, to indulge in your freaks of eccentricity! It is murder morally. What are you better than the man who killed that wretched woman?' Tressamer shook with anger. 'Be careful, Prescott! I will stand a great deal from you, but you are going too far now. You know as well as I do that her life is in no danger. What is old Buller's opinion worth on a criminal case? Wiseman is worth ten of him, and he is in our favour. The C.C.R. will save her.' 'Wretched man! Have you no heart, no moral sense, that you talk like that? As if a mere escape on a technical point could give any comfort to a woman like her! One would think you were wanting in some ingredient of human nature. What does Eleanor herself say?' 'I haven't seen her,' was the muttered reply. 'Haven't seen her! Then go at once, and get her authority to appear.' 'I have been to the prison, but she won't see me. I suppose she is ill.' A look of positive pleasure crossed the face of the elder man. 'Ill--no, but innocent!' he exclaimed. 'I can understand her refusing to see you. You have played with her life for the prize of infamy, and you deserve that she should discard you. This is the best thing I have heard yet. Why, I could almost forgive you now for telling me. I will go this instant and offer my services: they will be those of a plain, honest man.' And, flinging off his wig and gown, he rushed out of the place in a very unwonted state of excitement. Tressamer was left, bewildered and enraged, to curse his own folly in betraying his defeat to a rival. * * * * * When Eleanor was summoned by the gaoler to see Mr. Prescott, she at first thought there must be some mistake. 'Are you sure you don't mean Mr. Tressamer?' she asked. 'No; he said Prescott.' A faint smile rose in her face. She eagerly assented to the interview, and in a couple of minutes the two were closeted together. At first there was a brief, awkward silence. Then Prescott broke it by speaking in calm, precise words: 'It is nearly five years since we met, Miss Owen, but I hope you have not quite forgotten me.' 'No, indeed,' she answered; 'but you should have forgotten me. I know I ought to thank you for this visit, and for dealing so leniently with the case yesterday, but I cannot find the right words. It is all so strange--so terrible and so strange.' Prescott was afraid to look at her, lest the tears should come into his eyes.