The Elder heard the decision in a kind of stupefaction. Neil, neither by himself or his lawyer, made any protest. What use was there in doing so?

They had been sentenced by a court accountable to no tribunal whatever: a court arbitrary and illegal, that troubled itself neither with juries nor oaths, and from which there was no appeal. Lord Medway watched the proceedings with indignation, and the feeling in the room was full of sympathy for the two men. Neil's haughty manner and stern face betrayed nothing of the anger he felt, but the Elder was hardly prevented from speaking words which would have brought him still greater loss. As it was, it taxed Neil's strength and composure to the uttermost to get his father with dignity away from the scene. He gave him his arm, and whispered authoritatively, "Do not give way, father! Do not open your lips!" So the old gentleman straightened himself, and, leaning heavily on his son, reached the lobby before he fell into a state bordering on collapse.

Neil placed him in a chair, got him water, and was wondering where he could most easily procure a carriage, when the sound of wheels coming at a furious rate arrested his attention. They stopped at the court house, and as Neil went to the door the lovely Madame Jacobus sprang out of the vehicle.

"Neil!" she cried. "Neil Semple! I only heard an hour ago, I came as soon as the horses were ready, it is disgraceful. Where is the Elder?

Can I take him home?"

"Madame, it will be the greatest kindness. He is ready to faint."

The Elder looked at her with eyes full of tears.

"Madame," he said, "they have fined me in my auld age for a misdemeanor"--and then he laughed hysterically. "I hae lived fifty years in New York, and I am fined--I hae----"

She stopped the quavering voice with a kiss, and with Neil's help led him gently to her carriage; and as soon as he reached its friendly shelter he closed his eyes and looked like one dead. Madame was in a tempest of rage. "It is just like the ravening wolves," she said. "They saw an opportunity to rob you,--you need not tell me, I know Matthews!

He has the winter's routs and dances for his luxurious wife and daughters to provide for, as well as what he calls his own 'd.a.m.ned good dinners.' How much did he mulct you in? Never mind telling me now, Neil, but come and lunch with me to-morrow; I shall have something to say to you then."

She had the Elder's hand in her's as she spoke, and she did not loosen her clasp until she saw him safely at his own home and in the care of his wife. She remained a few moments to comfort Madame Semple, then, divining they would be best alone with their sorrow, she went away with a reminder to Neil that she wished to speak to him privately on the following day.

"It is as if G.o.d sent her," said Madame gratefully.

"Get me to my bed, Janet, dearie," said the Elder. "I'll just awa' out o' this warld o' sorrows and wrongs and robbery."

"You'll just stop havering and talking nonsense, Alexander. Are you going to die and leave me my lane for a bit o' siller? I'm ashamed o'

you. Twa or three hundred pounds! Is that what you count your life worth? Help your father to his bed, Neil, and I'll bring him some gude mutton broth. He's hungry and faint and out o' his sleep--it tak's little to make men talk o' dying. Parfect nonsense!"

"You don't know, Janet Semple----"

"Yes, I do know, Alexander. Quit whining, and put a stout heart to a steep hill. You hae a wife and sons and friends yet about you, and you talk o' dying! I'll not hear tell o' such things, not I!"

But when the Elder had taken a good meal and fallen asleep, Janet spoke with less spirit to her son. And Neil was in a still fury; he found it difficult to answer his mother's questions.

"The money is to be found, and that at once," he said. "Father will not rest until it is paid; and I have not the least idea where I can procure it."

"You must sell some o' that confiscated property you and your father wared all your ready money on," said Janet bitterly.

"At the present time it is worth nothing, mother; and houses and lands are not sold at an hour's notice. I suppose if I ask Batavius DeVries he will help father. I think Curtis can manage my share of the blackmail."

"That poor lad wha has made a' the mischief, what of him?"

"He is John Bradley's son." Then Neil described the scene in the courtroom, and Madame's eyes filled with tears as she said, "I never thought so well o' the Bradleys before. Poor Agnes!"

Yes, "poor Agnes!" Neil was feeling a consuming impatience to be with her, to comfort her and help her to bear whatever might be appointed.

"So the lad is to be tried in the Military Police Court. Is not that a good thing?"

"Yes. John Bradley has money. It is all the 'law' there is to satisfy in that court."

"Are they trying him to-day?"

"Yes. I heard his case called as we left the room. Where is Maria?"

"She has cried herself blind, deaf and dumb. She is asleep now. I went to tell her you were hame, and she was sobbing like a bairn that has been whipped ere it shut its eyes. I dinna waken her."

Then Neil went to his room to dress himself. He felt as if no care and no nicety of apparel could ever atone for the crumpled disorder of his toilet in the courtroom, which had added itself so keenly to his sense of disgrace. Then he must go to Agnes; her brother was his brother, and, though he had brought such shame and loss on the Semples, still he must do all he could for him, for the sake of Agnes. And there was the money to find, and Madame Jacobus to see! A sense of necessary haste pressed him like a goad. Not a moment must be lost, for he felt through every sense of his mortal and spiritual being that Agnes was calling him.

CHAPTER VII.

THE PRICE OF HARRY'S LIFE.

He heard Agnes calling him, and he resolved to go at once to her. And never had he looked handsomer than at this hour, for he had clothed himself with that rich and rigid propriety he understood so well while the sense of injustice under which he so inwardly burned gave to him a haughty dignity, suiting his grave face and lofty stature to admiration.

He went very softly along the upper corridor of his home, but Madame heard his step, and opening her door, said in a whisper:

"Your father has fallen asleep, Neil, and much he needed sleep. Where are you going?"

"I am going back to the court. I wish to know what has been done in Bradley's case."

"Why trouble yourself with other people's business? The lad has surely given us sorrow enough."

"He is her brother--I mean----"

"I know who you mean; weel, then, go your way; neither love nor wisdom will win a hearing from you on that road."

"There is money to be found somewhere, mother. Until his fine is paid, father will be miserable. I want to borrow the amount as soon as possible."

_"Borrow!_ Has it come to that?"

"It has, for a short time. I think Captain DeVries will let me have it.

He ought to."

"He'll do naething o' the kind. I would ask any other body but him."

"There are few to ask. I must get it where I can. Curtis will advance one hundred pounds for me."

"They who go borrowing go sorrowing. I'm vexed for you, my dear lad. It is the first time I ever heard tell o' a Semple seeking money not their ain."

"It is our own fault, mother. If father and I had taken your advice and let confiscated property alone we should have had money to lend to-day; certainly, we should have been able to help ourselves out of all difficulties without asking the a.s.sistance of strangers."

The confession pleased her. "What you say is the truth," she answered; "but everybody has a fool up their sleeve some time in their life. May G.o.d send you help, Neil, for I'm thinking it will hae to come by His hand; and somehow, I dinna believe He'll call on Batavius DeVries to gie you it."

With these words she retreated into her room, closing the door noiselessly, and Neil left the house. As soon as he was in the public road he saw Batavius standing at his garden gate, smoking and talking with Cornelius Haring and Adrian Rutgers. They were discussing Bradley's trouble and the Semples's connection with it, and Neil felt the spirit of their conversation. It was not kindly, and as he approached them Haring and Rutgers walked away. For a moment Batavius seemed inclined to do the same, but Neil was too near to be avoided without intentional offense, and he said to himself, "I will stand still. Out of my own way I will not move, because Neil Semple comes." So he stolidly continued to smoke, staring idly before him with a gaze fixed and ruminating.

"Good afternoon, Captain. Are you at liberty for a few minutes?" asked Neil.

"Yes. What then, Mr. Semple? I heard tell, from my friends, that you are in trouble."