"I wanted to be sure that you understood my position," he proceeded, "to feel that my sympathies are with your father--with you. Yes, to the extent that were I a free agent, and not bound by my oath to the People, I'd turn in and work my fingers to the bone for your father." He moved a little closer to her, and added significantly, "for you." When Leslie returned to Beekman, singularly enough, she said nothing to Beekman of the Assistant District Attorney's brief visit; nor later did she mention it to her father. It would have disturbed Beekman; it would have pleased Wilkinson; but she could not know that. XIII It was a beautiful day in the early part of Summer. On the deck of the _Marchioness_, only a short time ago put in commission, Peter V. Wilkinson was lying back in his steamer chair, luxuriously. New York was experiencing one of the season's first hot days, but under the awning of the after deck of the _Marchioness_, and out of sight of land as she was, a delicious ocean breeze made life worth living, so it seemed, at any rate, to the two men sitting there, ever and anon calling to the steward, and refreshing themselves with Wilkinson's choicest wines and liqueurs with which the yacht was stocked. "Do you know," remarked Wilkinson with a short laugh, as he threw over the side an unfinished cigar and lighted a fresh one, "I ought to have taken Leslie's original advice--ought to have sailed away on the _Marchioness_ when they indicted me." "You'd be in the thick of the trouble, Peter," returned his counsel sagely. "Huh!" grunted Wilkinson, "don't know but I'll do it now, and take you with me, Colonel." "Don't care if you do. It would end my troubles." Wilkinson tapped the Colonel on the knee. "Tell me, Colonel, how much money does that blatherskite get a year?" "What blatherskite?" "Gilchrist--the chap that had the nerve to sentence me." Morehead told him; Wilkinson opened wide his eyes. "You don't mean to tell me that's all he makes--his salary?" The Colonel nodded. "And do you mean to tell me that a man who only gets that much a year has the power to put away a man like me--can do a thing like that? What are we coming to in the United States?" The Colonel laughed heartily. "That man Gilchrist is a marked man from now on," went on Wilkinson. "His degradation has begun. He sentenced me all right; and I've sentenced him. I'll see to it that he's hounded out of New York. Any man that tries to set himself up before me--may stand up for five minutes or so, but he'll go down as sure as death and taxes. Every man that's prosecuted me, touched me, laid his hands on me physically or figuratively, is going to get it. I've got a heavy hand, Morehead, and they're going to feel it. They're going to know it's me. Gilchrist will get his, first." The lawyer sniffed the breeze and closed his eyes in ecstasy. "Oh, come now, Peter ...! I haven't enjoyed a day like this in years."