A struggle ensued between the burglar and the dog, which, short and desperate as it was, seemed an age to Peace. He flung his canine opponent with all his force to the other end of the room; but the dog was not easily cowed; he came on once more. Peace had expected this. As the animal approached, he struck it a terrific blow on the head with his jemmy. For a moment the poor creature was stunned. Peace shouldered his bag, and was about to make off, when he received a cut on the forehead from some weapon, which caused a thousand sparks to flicker before his eyes. He struck out right and left with his jemmy at a dark figure in the doorway. In another moment he was in the grasp of a powerful man, whose features were not distinguishable, the room being at this time in almost utter darkness. “Scoundrel――villain!” exclaimed his opponent; “you shall not escape me.” Peace made no answer to these expletives. He had but one thought――this being to get away. He struggled desperately, and fought like a tiger. The two combatants fell to the floor, rolling over together. Peace kicked and struck out with his fists, but for all he could do he could not shake off his resolute antagonist. The dog, who had now in a measure recovered from the blow, set up a loud barking. He, with a noble instinct, rushed to his master’s assistance and caught Peace by one of his legs, who kicked the animal savagely with the other. “Down Bruno――down, boy,” ejaculated Peace’s opponent. At these words the dog ceased further hostilities. Peace by a supreme effort rose to his feet, but he was still in the grasp of his enemy, who also rose. The noise and barking of the dog aroused another inmate of the house; this was the servant girl, who hurried on her things and hastened to the scene of action with a lighted candle in her hand. “For mercy’s sake, Mr. Gatliffe, whatever is the matter?” she inquired. Peace’s heart beat audibly. He was in the hands of Tom Gatliffe. By the light of the candle which the girl carried he beheld the well-known features of his rival. “Heaven be merciful!” exclaimed the latter, who despite his disguise at once recognised Peace. “Can it be possible?” He regarded the burglar with a look of bewilderment. Peace was abashed; panting and puffing like a grampus, he drew back and supported himself against the edge of the cheffonier. The two――the honest man and the rogue――regarded each other in silence for a brief space of time. “I had never counted on this――I am appalled,” exclaimed Gatliffe. “A robber, a thief, a burglar! It surpasses all belief!” A stream of blood trickled down the face of our hero from the blow he had received at the commencement of the conflict, but he was heedless of this. The exposure, the terrible discovery made by young Gatliffe, afflicted him more than aught else.