"None!" returned Leonie, turning to him, desperately. "Oh, sir, I wish you would make him see that I am right and he is wrong! I wish you would make him understand how impossible it is for me to do as he thinks I should! You see it as I do, do you not? At least he should take half!"
"That seems to me fair enough, Lynde, unless you could name a different compromise!"
He laughed as the remark was made, but would have recalled it if he could, when he saw the expression of both countenances.
"You must give me time to think of it!" cried Pyne, speaking hastily, to cover his confusion. "That is a proposition that I never thought of before. I will call about it to-morrow; and in the meantime, Leonie, see what you can do about the other matter that I spoke to you of, will you not?"
She was about to reply, when the door opened to admit a servant, followed by a messenger.
"For Mr. Pyne!" the servant announced, handing the brownish envelope to Lynde.
"Have I your permission?" asked Pyne, glancing from Leonie to Mr. Pryor, as he held the message in his hand.
Receiving their permission, he tore the end off and read hastily. A frown contracted his brow; then, with the ghastliness of death covering his face, he read it aloud:
"Dear Pyne,—A message just came for you from the Tombs to the effect that a terrible thing has happened there, and your presence is desired at once. From all accounts you need not distress yourself further about bail for your fair client. I send this to Mr. Pryor's in the hope that it may find you.
"Yours in haste,
"Downing."
Neither of the distressed listeners spoke until he had reached the door to answer the imperative call. Then, with a bound, Leonie was beside him.