Leslie shuddered, and as he paused, she asked, from behind her hands: "And then--oh, tell me what happened after that!" "Your brother-in-law closed and barred the door, and turned upon us like a lion at bay, risking his own safety to insure your retreat. What! has he not told you?" "He has told me nothing." "There is little more to tell. I knew him for your brother-in-law, because, here at the masquerade, I was a witness to a little scene in which he threw off his mask and domino. It was when he met and frightened the little girl, and then reproved the servant." "I remember." "I recognized him at once, and fearing lest, by arresting him, we might do harm to you, or bring to light the secret I had promised to help you keep, I connived at his escape." She lifted her head suddenly. "_Arrest!_" she exclaimed; "why should you arrest _him_?" Stanhope fixed his eyes upon her face; then sinking his voice still lower, he said: "Something had occurred before we came upon the scene; what that something was, you probably know. What we found in that room, after your flitting, was Alan Warburton, standing against the door with a table before him as a breast-work, in his hand a blood-stained bar of iron, and almost at his feet, a dead body." "What!" "It was the body of a dead rag-picker. Before you left that room, a fatal blow was struck." "Yes--I--I don't know--I can't tell--it was all confused." She sank back in her chair, her face fairly livid, her eyes looking unutterable horror. "Some one had committed a murder," went on Stanhope, keeping his eyes fixed upon her pallid face; "and the instrument that dealt the blow was in your brother-in-law's hand. To arrest him would have been to compromise you, and I had promised you safety and protection." She bent forward, looking eagerly into his face. "And you rescued him?" she said, eagerly. "You could scarcely call it that. He resisted grandly, and was brave enough to effect his own rescue. I guided him away from that unsafe locality, and warned him of the danger which menaced him." "And is that danger now past?" "Is it past!" He took from his pocket a folded placard, opened it, and put it into her hands. It was the handbill containing the description of the escaped Sailor, and offering a reward for his capture. With a cry of remorse and terror, Leslie Warburton flung it from her, and rose to her feet. "My God!" she cried, wringing her hands wildly, "my cowardice, my folly, has brought this upon him, upon us all!" Then turning toward the detective, a sudden resolve replacing the terror in her eye, a resolute ring in her voice, she said: "Listen; you have proved yourself worthy of all confidence; you shall hear all I have to tell; you shall judge between my enemies and me." "But, madam--" "Wait; I want your advice, too, your aid, perhaps. Mr. Follingsbee also shall hear me." She started toward the library, but the detective put out a detaining hand.