“Listen, Richard.  You must put away these timorous fears, or else you must make up your mind to remain under the ban for good; and, remember, your mother’s happiness is at stake equally with yours—­I could almost say her life.  Do you suppose I would advise you for danger?  You used to say there was some place, a mile or two from this, where you could sojourn in safety.”

“So there is.  But I always feel safer when I get away from it.”

“There your quarters must be, for two or three days at any rate.  I have turned matters over in my own mind, and will tell you what I think should be done, so far as the preliminary step goes, though I do not interfere myself.”

“Only the preliminary step!  There must be a pretty many to follow it, sir, if it’s to come to anything.  Well, what is it?”

“Apply to Ball & Treadman, and get them to take it.”

They were now slowly pacing the covered walk, Barbara on her husband’s arm, Richard by the side of Mr. Carlyle.  Dick stopped when he heard the last words.

“I don’t understand you, Mr. Carlyle.  You might as well advise me to go before the bench of magistrates at once.  Ball & Treadman would walk me off there as soon as I showed myself.”

“Nothing of the sort, Richard.  I do not tell you to go openly to their office, as another client would.  What I would advise is this—­make a friend of Mr. Ball; he can be a good man and true, if he chooses; tell the whole story to him in a private place and interview, and ask him whether he will carry it through.  If he is fully impressed with the conviction that you are innocent, as the facts appear to warrant, he will undertake it.  Treadman need know nothing of the affair at first; and when Ball puts things in motion, he need not know that you are here, or where you are to be found.”

“I don’t dislike Ball,” mused Richard, “and if he would only give his word to be true, I know he would be.  The difficulty will be, who is to get the promise from him?”

“I will,” said Mr. Carlyle.  “I will so far pave the way for you.  That done, my interference is over.”

“How will he go about it, think you, if he does take it up?”

“That is his affair.  I know how I should.”

“How, sir?”

“You cannot expect me to say, Richard.  I might as well act for you.”

“I know.  You’d go at it slap-dash, and arrest Levison offhand on the charge.”

A smile parted Mr. Carlyle’s lips, for Dick had just guessed it.  But his countenance gave no clue by which anything could be gathered.

A thought flashed across Richard’s mind; a thought which rose up on end even his false hair.  “Mr. Carlyle,” he uttered, in an accent of horror, “if Ball should take it up in that way against Levison, he must apply to the bench for a warrant.”

“Well?” quietly returned Mr. Carlyle.

“And they’d send and clap me into prison.  You know the warrant is always out against me.”