“I will,” said Paul, “provided that in all you do you respect her feelings, and remember that I love this woman better than all the world.” Mr. Williamson shrugged his shoulders. “I love her better than all the world, and I only consent to this active interference because I know she will come out of the inquiry clear. The idea of her being Gibbs’s wife is absurd,” Paul went on. “But supposing it is true?” said the barrister. “I will suppose nothing. Why do you try to bring unhappiness between us? In less than a month we should have been on the sea to begin a new life in a new country--turning our backs upon the past.” “And upon your friends,” said the barrister. “You would be leaving father and mother and sister and friends in the society of an abandoned woman.” “Mr. Williamson,” exclaimed Paul, “I will not stand this!” “In the society of an abandoned woman,” repeated the barrister, “not like those poor people in the picture ‘Seeking New Homes,’ with the association of pure affection and honest noble aims of independence. Your whole life would have been blighted, your family disgraced, and yourself a miserable man.” “I will not get into a passion with you,” said Paul, “but I cannot stand this, so good-night;” and before the barrister had time to intercept him, Paul rushed out of the room and hurried away into the street. Meanwhile Mr. Bales returned. The barrister informed him that he thought it would be impossible to proceed with the case of conspiracy. The officer said he had another charge against the prisoner upon which he could secure a conviction, and so the two parted; the detective to complete his entry in the police charge-sheet and arrange for the appearance on the next day of certain witnessess, and Mr. Williamson to the residence of Mrs. Dibble, where he at once introduced himself to her interesting lodger as Lieut. Somerton’s friend. He did not hesitate at all about the part he should play. Assuming the position of Lieut. Somerton’s legal adviser, he told the lady that Paul knew everything, and when she assumed an injured and indignant air, he showed her a copy of that very marriage certificate which she had burnt. Nay, more; he said that he knew where her father the showman was to be found, and that her husband, who was in custody, had explained everything to the policeman who had apprehended him. And yet whilst the barrister was utterly crushing the girl, and even threatening her with a police cell, he felt a strange interest in her. The remembrance of a well-known face which had fascinated him when a boy came so vividly into his mind as he stood before the showman’s daughter, that he grew strangely embarrassed in his manner. Shortly, his assumed austerity gave way, and he found himself speaking very gently and tenderly.