The effect of the interruption was instant and startling. Mr. Hallowell, who, in the last few minutes, had believed he was listening to a voice from the dead, collapsed upon the shoulder of Rainey, who sprang to support him. Like a somnambulist wrenched from sleep, Vera gave a scream of fright, half genuine, half assumed, and swayed as though about to fall. Vance caught her in his arms. He turned on Gaylor, his cunning red eyes flashing evilly. “You brute!” he cried, “you might have killed her.” Between her sobs, Vera, her head upon the shoulder of Vance, whispered a question. As quickly, under cover of muttered sympathy, Vance answered: “Gaylor. The Judge.” Still slightly swaying, Vera stood upright. She passed her hand vaguely before her eyes. “Where am I?” she asked feebly. “Where am I?” Gaylor shook his fist at the girl. “You know where you are!” he thundered; “and you know where you’re going--you’re going to jail!” In the hush that followed Vera drew herself to her full height. She regarded Gaylor wonderingly, haughtily, as though he were some drunken intruder from the street. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked. “Yes, to you,” shouted the lawyer. “You’re an imposter, and a swindler, and--and--” Winthrop pushed between them. “Yes, and she’s a woman,” he said briskly. “If you want a row, talk to the man.” To this point the scene had brought to Vera no emotion save the excitement that is felt by the one who is struggling to escape. The appearance of a champion added a new interest. Through no fault of her own, she had learned by experience that to the one man who annoyed her there always were six to spring to her protection. So the glance she covertly turned upon Winthrop was one less of gratitude than curiosity. But at the first sight of him the girl started, her eyes lit with recognition, her face flushed. And then, although the man was in no way regarding her, her eyes filled, and in mortification and dismay she blushed crimson. His anger still unsatisfied, Gaylor turned upon Vance. “And you,” he cried; “you’re going to jail too. I’ll drive--” The voice of Mr. Hallowell, shaken with pain and distress, rose feebly, beseechingly. “Henry!” he begged. “I can’t stand it!” “Judge Gaylor!” thundered Rainey, “I won’t be responsible if you keep this up.” With an exclamation of remorse, Vera ran to the side of the old man. With Rainey on his other hand, she raised him upright upon his feet. “Lean on me,” begged the girl breathlessly. “I’m very strong. Lean on me.” Mr. Hallowell shook his head. “No, child,” he protested, “not you.” He turned to his old friend. “You help me, Henry,” he begged. With the authority of the medical man, Rainey waved Vance into the bedroom. “Close those windows,” he ordered. “You help me!” he commanded of Gaylor. “Put your arm under him.” Mr. Hallowell, protesting feebly and leaning heavily upon the two men, stumbled into the bedroom, and the door was shut behind him.