Then he remembered how intimate Estrella had always been with Tessa and decided his best course would be to go to her little friend, being well aware that any information she might have she would gladly give to him; he was hurrying along, intent upon this new hope of relief from his anxiety regarding the woman he imagined himself to be deeply in love with, when, all at once, he became aware that someone was following his footsteps, guardedly and yet with determination; immediately upon this knowledge, there stalked into the foreground of his consciousness the fear of discovery of his recent crime; the intimation of the Priest that he had suspected it had stirred within him the instinct of self-protection and he hastened his progress along the familiar and narrow street, hoping to out-distance his pursuer, whoever he might happen to be. It seemed to him that he was succeeding in this last effort and he was congratulating himself upon his own celerity, when a hand was laid rather heavily upon his shoulder and a loud and insistent voice declared him to be the prisoner of the owner of it. Instantly, Manuello became a beast of prey, cornered in its lair, and furious with all the animal instincts of self-preservation. He squirmed away from the heavy hand and whirled around to face his would-be captor and looked directly into the muzzle of a very capable gun held in steady hands that seemed well accustomed to its use. "Up wid ye'er fists, ye dirty spalpeen ye!" commanded the man behind the gun, using his own rich native brogue in the excitement of the moment. "Hould 'em right there ..." he went on, as Manuello, instinctively, though sullenly, obeyed him, "til I snap these putty bracelets on ye'er wrists!" fumbling in his pocket with one hand while he held the gun in the other, steadying it against his shoulder, for he had come prepared, knowing his prospective prisoner to be a desperate character. "There, now!" having completed his search and placed a handcuff on one of Manuello's wrists. "Up wid that one and over to its mate!" But his prisoner was indeed a desperate man and did not intend to yield to arrest as easily as it had appeared, at first; raising the manacled wrist, he brought the steel bracelets down on the red head of the Irishman, felling him to the ground; then it was but the work of a moment to secure the loaded gun, and, after that, the tables were completely turned for Manuello immediately became the master of the situation; looking hastily about him to be sure that he was unobserved, he was about to complete the utter defeat of the man who had given him such a terrific fright by beating his brains out with the clubbed gun, when he heard his own name spoken in a soft, low, scared voice; turning, he beheld little Tessa standing behind him.