“Madame,” said Reybold, in a quieter moment, “have you written to the Judge the fact of his son’s death?”

“Oh, yes—­to Fawquear.”

“Mrs. Basil,” continued the Congressman, “I want you to be explicit with me.  Where is the Judge, your husband, at this moment?”

“Excuse me, Colonel Reybold, this is a little of a assumption, sir.  The Jedge might call you out, sir, for intruding upon his incog.  He’s very fine on his incog., you air awair.”

“Madame,” exclaimed Reybold straightforwardly, “there are reasons why I should communicate with your husband.  My term in Congress is nearly expired.  I might arouse your interest, if I chose, by recalling to your mind the memorandum of about seven hundred dollars in which you are my debtor.  That would be a reason for seeing your husband anywhere north of the Potomac, but I do not intend to mention it.  Is he aware—­are you?—­that Joyce Basil is in love with some one in this city?”

Mrs. Basil drew a long breath, raised both hands, and ejaculated:  “Well, I declaw!”

“I have it from her own lips,” continued Reybold.  “She told me as a secret, but all my suspicions, are awakened.  If I can prevent it, madame, that girl shall not follow the example of hundreds of her class in Washington, and descend, through the boarding-house or the lodging quarter, to be the wife of some common and unambitious clerk, whose penury she must some day sustain by her labor.  I love her myself, but I will never take her until I know her heart to be free.  Who is this lover of your daughter?”

An expression of agitation and cunning passed over Mrs. Basil’s face.

“Colonel Reybold,” she whined, “I pity your blasted hopes.  If I was a widow, they should be comfoted.  Alas! my daughter is in love with one of the Fitz-chews of Fawqueeah.  His parents is cousins of the Jedge, and attached to the military.”

The Congressman looked disappointed, but not yet satisfied.

“Give me at once the address of your husband,” he spoke.  “If you do not, I shall ask your daughter for it, and she can not refuse me.”

The mistress of the boarding-house was not without alarm, but she dispelled it with an outbreak of anger.

“If my daughter disobeys her mother,” she cried, “and betrays the Jedge’s incog., she is no Basil, Colonel Reybold.  The Basils repudiate her, and she may jine the Dutch and other foreigners at her pleasure.”

“That is her only safety,” exclaimed Reybold.  “I hope to break every string that holds her to yonder barren honor and exhausted soil.”

He pointed toward Virginia, and hastened away to the Capitol.  All the way up the squalid and muddy avenue of that day he mused and wondered:  “Who is Fitzhugh?  Is there such a person any more than a Judge Basil?  And yet there is a Judge, for Joyce has told me so. She, at least, can not lie to me.  At last,” he thought, “the dream of my happiness is over.  Invincible in