“At his offices this evening.”
“He gave no hint that he was in any danger?”
“No immediate danger. Oh, Carlos, he is not what you think him to be. He is an honest man, and I am so sorry for him, and I love him. Where is he? What has happened to him?”
“I can’t tell you now,” was Carpentaria’s reply, “but before morning we shall know more, or I am mistaken.”
“It is for the crimes of others that he is suffering,” said Juliette.
“He told you so?”
“No, but I guess; I am sure. I know all his faults—all of them. I do not hide one of them from myself. Why should I, since he loves me and I love him?”
“My child,” said Carpentaria abruptly, “you might have trusted me more.”
“I should have trusted you absolutely,” answered Juliette, “but he is afraid of you. He would not let me. I could not disobey him. Sometime, somehow, you must have said something to frighten him and, though he is so big and strong, he is timid; he has timid eyes. It was because of his eyes that I first began to like him. Carlos, what are you going to do?”
“I am going to watch,” was the response.