“Can I have been deceived in Dick Birch!” mused Eugene, as he walked the library. “You have not been; he is the same true and tried friend he has always been.” “This money has cursed the whole of us!” exclaimed he. “Not at all, Mr. Hungerford. You wrong him; you wrong yourself. Mr. Birch is as true as steel.” “Dick was poor, and in debt for his education, besides having a mother and three sisters partially dependent upon him,” continued Eugene, who appeared to be talking to himself rather than to the doctor. “It was a great temptation.” “Whatever the temptation, I am sure Mr. Birch has not yielded, and has never cherished a selfish thought towards you or yours.” “Dr. Bilks, do you believe that Mr. Birch was the person who was with Buckstone last night?” demanded Eugene, stopping before the doctor’s chair. “I am hardly prepared to say, Mr. Hungerford.” “You have heard all the evidence for and against him.” “The evidence is very strong; but in the face of it all, Mr. Birch declares that he was not the person. I am disposed to believe him, in spite of all the testimony against him.” “I thank you for those words; they are very comforting to me. If Dick’s word produces so strong an impression upon you, who have known him but for a few months, what effect should it produce upon me, who have been his intimate friend for years!” “Mr. Hungerford, without fear or favor, without regard to the friendships of months or years, we wish to know the truth,” said the doctor, with a Brutus-like integrity. “Yes; you are right! If Dick has deceived me in the smallest particular, even for my own good, I will cast him off; I will renounce the friendship which I valued more than all the money in the world.” “Let not your own integrity blind you on the one hand, or your friendship on the other,” added the doctor, solemnly. “Be just.” “I will, if possible. What were you about to suggest?” asked Eugene, whose intuitive knowledge of the character of his companion assured him that this flourish was only the preliminary to another suggestion. “I confess that I feel a painful interest in this matter,” continued the doctor; “and while nothing would afford me so much pleasure as to see our friend Birch completely vindicated, I feel compelled to say that appearances are very strong against him. I am exceedingly sorry to say that his conduct on the beach to-night was not entirely satisfactory to me.” “Why not?” demanded Eugene, abruptly. “He did not deny the sheriff’s position. Three of his warmest friends, including yourself, Mr. Hungerford, were present. He knew how painful to us that attitude of suspicion must be. Why did he not explain to us, if not to the sheriff, the facts alleged against him? Why did he hold up his head, and walk away, when a word would have satisfied us? Why is he not here this evening, to give us the assurance which we have the right to demand of him?” “You don’t know Dick,” said Eugene, impatiently.