The energy and spirit she displayed put some heart into her husband, and their parting was very quiet, very composed. Within half an hour Audrey was at Mr. Candover’s flat, only to find, however, that he was already on his way to Paris. His secretary, Durley Diggs, a little keen-eyed American with green and gold teeth, asked if he could do anything for her. “Yes,” said Audrey promptly. “My husband has been arrested on a charge of fraud. Mr. Candover knows all about it, and told me to come to you if I wanted help. Now I suppose they will want bail, and I want you to find it.” Mr. Diggs was very courteous, very business-like, very anxious to be of use. But Audrey was keen enough to see that he did not want to do this thing. But she insisted so steadily, refused so persistently to listen to his various excuses, that finally he said suddenly: “I’ll see if the duchess will do it,” and, seizing his hat, was going to rush out, when she insisted upon accompanying him. “I’ve got to go out to Epsom. Madame de Vicenza lives at ‘The Briars,’ a big house out there,” objected Diggs, disconcerted by her persistency. “Well, I’ll go with you. I can explain better than you, can’t I?” He was overpowered by her determination, and together they went down to Epsom, drove to “The Briars,” which was a large, stately old house standing secluded in its own grounds, where Audrey waited downstairs while Durley Diggs was escorted into the presence of the duchess, as she supposed. He came down again in the company of a tall, shambling man with round shoulders and a protruding jaw, whom he introduced as Mr. Johnson, the duchess’s steward. And this gentleman having stated that he was prepared to give any undertaking on the part of the duchess which might be necessary, to serve any friend of Mr. Candover’s, they all three went back to town, and to the Guildhall, where they found, as Audrey had expected, that bail for Gerard was wanted to the amount of two hundred pounds. Her two companions having satisfied the magistrate, the necessary formalities were entered into, and Gerard and his wife were free to leave the court together. Audrey was struck by the terrible change which a few hours had made in her husband. That morning he had been anxious indeed, worried, puzzled, distressed beyond measure by the situation in which he found himself. But now she saw at once that his position must be worse than she had supposed. For in place of anxiety, she saw in his eyes despair, instead of being worried and irritable, he was bowed down by a terrible weight of depression which no tender words, no gentle caresses, no loving looks could remove. “Gerard, Gerard,” whispered she in a passionate outburst of misery and longing to help, when they were in the close cab he insisted on taking, “what is it, dear? What have you heard that makes you so wretched?” He turned his heavy eyes towards her; he was oppressed, stupefied by the weight of the calamity which had fallen upon him.