These letters were sent to me by--your son." "From my son!" exclaimed Ryder, starting.

For a moment he staggered as if he had received a blow; he was too much overcome to speak or act.

Then recovering himself, he rang a bell, and turned to Stott with renewed fury: "So," he cried, "this man, this judge whose honour is at stake and his daughter, who most likely has no honour at stake, between them have made a thief and a liar of my son! false to his father, false to his party; and you, sir, have the presumption to come here and ask me to intercede for him!" To the butler, who entered, he said: "See if Mr.Jefferson is still in the house.

If he is, tell him I would like to see him here at once." The man disappeared, and Ryder strode angrily up and down the room with the letters in his hand.

Then, turning abruptly on Stott, he said: "And now, sir, I think nothing more remains to be said.