He threw an arm across the little man’s shoulders and swung him toward the door of the other room.

Happy Fear looked up from beneath the down-bent brim of his black slouch hat; his eyes followed an imperious gesture toward Ariel, gave her a brief, ghastly stare, and stumbled into the inner chamber.

“Wait!” Joe said, cavalierly, to Ariel.  He went in quickly after Mr. Fear and closed the door.

This was Joseph Louden, Attorney-at-Law; and to Ariel it was like a new face seen in a flash-light —­not at all the face of Joe.  The sense of his strangeness, his unfamiliarity in this electrical aspect, overcame her.  She was possessed by astonishment:  Did she know him so well, after all?  The strange client had burst in, shaken beyond belief with some passion unknown to her, but Joe, alert, and masterful beyond denial, had controlled him instantly; had swept him into the other room as with a broom.  Could it be that Joe sometimes did other things in the same sweeping fashion?

She heard a match struck in the next room, and the voices of the two men:  Joe’s, then the other’s, the latter at first broken and protestive, but soon rising shrilly.  She could hear only fragments.  Once she heard the client cry, almost scream:  “By God!  Joe, I thought Claudine had chased him around there to do me!” And, instantly, followed Louden’s voice: 

“Steady, happy, steady!”

The name “Claudine” startled her; and although she had had no comprehension of the argot of Happy Fear, the sense of a mysterious catastrophe oppressed her; she was sure that something horrible had happened.  She went to the window; touched the shade, which disappeared upward immediately, and lifted the sash.  The front of a square building in the Court-house Square was bright with lights; and figures were passing in and out of the Main Street doors.  She remembered that this was the jail.

“Claudine!” The voice of the husband of Claudine was like the voice of one lamenting over Jerusalem.

“Steady, happy, steady!”

“But, Joe, if they git me, what’ll she do?  She can’t hold her job no longer—­not after this. . . .”

The door opened, and the two men came out, Joe with his hand on the other’s shoulder.  The splotches had gone from Happy’s face, leaving it an even, deathly white.  He did not glance toward Ariel; he gazed far beyond all that was about him; and suddenly she was aware of a great tragedy.  The little man’s chin trembled and he swallowed painfully; nevertheless he bore himself upright and dauntlessly as the two walked slowly to the door, like men taking part in some fateful ceremony.  Joe stopped upon the landing at the head of the stairs, but Happy Fear went on, clumping heavily down the steps.

“It’s all right, Happy,” said Joe.  “It’s better for you to go alone.  Don’t you worry.  I’ll see you through.  It will be all right.”