"Mr. Arden, can you explain this?" says Mr. Longcluse coolly. "You may as well give in quiet," says the third policeman, producing the warrant. "A warrant for murder. Walter Longcluse, _alias_ Yelland Mace, I arrest you in the Queen's name." "There's a magistrate here? Oh! yes, I see. How d'ye do, Mr. Harman? My name is Longcluse, as you know. The name Mays, or any other _alias_, you'll not insult me by applying to me, if you please. Of course this is obvious and utter trumpery. Are there informations, or what the devil is it?" "They have just been sworn before me, Sir," answered the magistrate, who was a little man, with a wave of his hand, and his head high. "Well, really! don't you _see_ the absurdity? Upon my soul! It _is_ really _too_ ridiculous! You won't inconvenience me, of course, unnecessarily. My own recognisance, I suppose, will do?" "Can't entertain your application; quite out of the question," said his worship, with his hands in his pockets, rising slightly on his toes, and descending on his heels, as he delivered this sentence with a stoical shake of his head. "You'll send for my attorney, of course? I'm not to be humbugged, you know." "I must tell you, Mr. Longcluse, I can't listen to such language," observes Mr. Harman sublimely. "If you have informations, they are the dreams of a madman. I don't blame any one here. I say, policeman, you need not hold me quite so hard. I only say, joke or earnest, I can't make head or tail of it; and there's not a man in London who won't be shocked to hear how I've been treated. Once more, Mr. Harman, I tender bail, any amount. It's too ridiculous. You can't really have a difficulty." "The informations are very strong, Sir, and the offence, you know as well as I do, Mr. Longcluse, is not bailable." Mr. Longcluse shrugged, and laughed gently. "I may have a cab or something? My trap's at the door. It's not solemn enough, eh, Mr. Harman? Will you tell one of your fellows to pick up a cab? Perhaps, Mr. Arden, you'll allow me a chair to sit down upon?" "You can sit in the study, if you please," says David Arden. And Longcluse enters the room with the police about him, while the servant goes to look for a cab. Sir Richard Arden, you may be sure, was not there. He saw that something was wrong, and he had got away to his own house. On arriving there, he sent to make inquiry, cautiously, at his uncle's, and thus learned the truth. Standing at the window, he saw his messenger return, let him in himself, and then considered, as well as a man in so critical and terrifying a situation can, the wisest course for him to adopt. The simple one of flight he ultimately resolved on. He knew that Longcluse had still two executions against him, on which, at any moment, he might arrest him. He knew that he might launch at him, at any moment, the thunderbolt which would blast him. He must wait, however, until the morning had confirmed the news; that certain, he dared not act.