"That Miss Claxton is doing what she conceives to be right, I have no doubt," said Alden, stiffly. Even in the dim light there was a visible improvement of attitude; some heart for life appeared to return to him with this declaration, which a moment before would have been a lie. Durgan could almost have laughed out in irony. "What she supposes to be right," repeated the reviving lover, "but I cannot approve." "She is a reasonable woman; you ought to trust her reason. As you don't know what she is doing, you don't know whether you approve or not." "_You_ know what she is doing, Mr. Durgan. You have information from Mrs. Durgan or Beardsley that I have not." "No; if my wife is in it, I have been as completely hoodwinked as you. I cannot even yet imagine how my wife could be inculpated in any way. And this Beardsley--I know nothing more of him than I told you; and the only explanation I can suggest as to the message you hold is merely the crudest imagination: supposing him to be the guilty person, Miss Claxton must have been in love with him to shield him as she did--as she does. You cannot wish that made public." Alden rose up, his back stiff with indignation. "Sir! that is at least a contingency which is entirely impossible. Are you aware that, before her father's death, Hermione Claxton had consented to marry me? We were about to make the engagement public. I had asked Mr. Claxton to accord me an interview. He was a confirmed hypochondriac; it was difficult to see him. I was waiting his pleasure when the tragedy----. Ah! it is impossible to explain how this tragedy has wrecked our lives, for, with an unparalleled strength of will and sensitive honor, Miss Claxton at once, and ever since, has refused to link her name with mine. But one thing, at least, this relation gives me reason to assure you: before this crime Miss Claxton had not a serious thought that she did not confide to me. There was no one on earth that she would wish to shield in the way you suggest; I know there was not. Her father, and her anxiety concerning the state of irreligion in which he lived; her sister, whom she loved with a mother's love; her mission work, which with her was done as under a direct command from our Lord--these, and the friendship she felt for my unworthy self, made up her life. I am certain of that, sir. As for this Beardsley, she not only despised him as a common impostor, but she abhorred him for the hold he had over her father." "Your view, then, coincides with that of her sister," Durgan pondered, as he spoke. The lawyer's eyelids flickered at this use of Bertha's name. "So," continued Durgan, "to come to the point; what do you suppose this intercepted message means?"