"My son--my darling boy!" she cried, wildly kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair. "Thank God I hold you in my arms once more! I have sought to prove your innocence, and though I have so far failed, come what will, we must not part again." As she spoke these words behind the little group the roaring of the flames increased. From the window of the first floor of the old mansion they now burst forth, illuminating the landscape for yards around. "Mother, can this indeed be you?" cried Frank, gazing upon the worn features of the woman in mingled astonishment and surprise. "It is, my son. And did you think me dead?" "I most certainly did. I left you beneath the church-yard wall when--when I went into the bank. When I came out you were gone, and next morning I saw that which I could have sworn was your dead body lying in a house in Catherine street in the rear of a place they call the Donegal Shades." The woman smiled sadly. "Listen, Frank," she said, with more calmness than she had before displayed. "Listen to my story, to be told in a few brief words, and you will understand this mystery which has been puzzling you for weeks." Here Barney was seen to glance at Jerry Buck, who stood quietly by, still wrapped in Mr. Callister's coat. Neither spoke, however, and Frank stood breathlessly listening to what his mother was about to tell. "I escaped from the asylum where Mr. Callister had placed me," began the unfortunate Mrs. Mansfield, "some weeks since as you know. I had been mad, but was so no longer, although no one would believe me when I told them so. My first care was to look for you, my son. With sorrow I heard of your dissipation and wrong-doing, and knowing well the interest Mr. Callister had at stake in leading you into crime, I determined to watch over you in secret and save you if I could. But this was after the time when, in desperation at what I had heard, I attempted to commit suicide by jumping into the river, from which I was rescued by this brave boy, known to you as Jerry Buck, but instantly recognized by me as the outcast son of my unfortunate twin sister, Maria Tisdale, the wife of that man who a moment ago stood in the cellar of yonder burning house by Elijah Callister's side. Stop! Do not interrupt me!" she exclaimed, seeing that Frank was about to speak. "A crowd will gather here before many minutes. Before it comes we must be far away. I knew the lad's features at a glance, and I told him who and what I was. In return he took me to the home of the 'Bats' in the old tomb beneath the church-yard wall. "On the night of the bank robbery I followed you from the time you left Mr. Callister's office until I spoke to you in the street by the side of the fence which surrounds the grave-yard of Trinity Church.