“I shall defend Swain, of course,” I concluded, “and I’m hoping that something in his favour will turn up before long, but I haven’t the remotest idea what it will be.  He can’t be tried till fall, and meanwhile I’m afraid he’ll have to stay in jail.”

“Yes; I see no way of getting him out,” agreed my partner.  “But the girl’s danger is much more serious.  Can’t we do something for her?”

“It’s difficult to do anything against her will,” I pointed out.  “Besides, I’ve lost interest in her a little.”

“Don’t blame her too much—­we must do everything we can.  Since she isn’t of age, she’ll have to have a guardian appointed.  He might do something.”

“I had thought of that; I’ll suggest to her to-night that she let me arrange for a guardian.  But if we wait for a court to take action, I’m afraid we’ll be too late.  Swain seems to think that the danger is very pressing.”

“At least we can make one more effort,” said Mr. Royce.  “I’ll have my wife drive out to see her this afternoon.  Perhaps she can do something,” and he went to the ’phone to make the arrangements.

I turned back to my work, but found myself unable to take it up, for my conscience told me that I ought to see Swain, make sure that he was comfortable, and do what I could to relieve his anxiety.  It was not a pleasant task, for I should have to admit my failure, but at last I put my work aside, made my way reluctantly to the Tombs, and asked to see him.

They had given him a well-lighted cell on the upper tier, and some of his own things had been brought in to soften its bareness, but my first glance at Swain told me that he was in a bad way.

“Is she all right?” was his first question, and his eyes seemed to burn into me.

“Yes,” I answered a little testily, “she’s all right—­that is, if you mean Miss Vaughan.  For heaven’s sake, Swain, be a little sensible.  What’s the use of working yourself up into a state like this!  Did you sleep any last night?”

“No,” said Swain, after thinking a minute.  “No, I believe not.”

“How about breakfast?”

“I don’t seem to remember about breakfast,” he answered, after another moment’s thought.

I stepped to the door, called the guard, and, putting a bill into his hand, asked him to send up the prison barber and to have a good meal sent in in the course of half an hour.  When the barber arrived, I had him take Swain in hand, give him a shave and shampoo and general freshening up.  Then I saw that he got into clean things; and then the breakfast arrived, and I made him sit down and eat.  He obeyed passively, and I could see the food did him good.  When he had finished his coffee, I handed him a cigar.

“Now, Swain,” I began, sitting down opposite him, “I’m going to talk to you seriously.  In the first place, Miss Vaughan is in no danger.  Simmonds had two men in the grounds watching the house all last night, ready to interfere at the least sign of anything wrong.  That watch will be kept up as long as Miss Vaughan remains there.”