A hand seized hers and drew her away, and without a word she followed her guide. CHAPTER XIII. MOWBRAY'S FOLLY AT CHELSEA. The situation was becoming critical for poor O'Flannigan and his companion, when an unexpected ally appeared upon the field of battle, in the person of the majestic Oriental who had served as the elephant driver. "Look here!" he cried. "This is a shameful farce. This gentleman is innocent; I'll go bond for him! And as for this brown-skinned Jezebel, do you not recognize her as the gypsy who told fortunes at Saint Bartholomew fair, and who has so often been hauled up before the magistrates in Bow Street?" "It's a fact!" explained some one. "It is Rahab, the gypsy queen!" "Call the watchmen and let the beggar be taken to prison!" From all sides resounded groans of disapproval. "No, no! no police! This is a joke. Don't do her any harm!" But at the words "watchmen" and "prison" the gypsy had folded her tent and silently stolen away. Assisted by his generous auxiliary, O'Flannigan conducted Mrs. Marsham, suffocating with mortification and rage, to a retired seat in an almost deserted side-room. There a footman brought her a glass of water, of which she swallowed half and then proceeded to take a survey of her surroundings. "I shall remember this evening!" she remarked. "The Lord has punished me for my curiosity as he chastised our mother Eve before me. However," added the good woman, relieving her mind with a fib, "I wished to give my niece the pleasure." The words suggested the girl. "But where is Esther?" she exclaimed. "Sure enough!" said O'Flannigan. "What has become of Miss Woodville?" Different suppositions were offered. She must have become frightened; she must have been separated from them by the crowd. "But she must be sought! She must be found!" cried Mrs. Marsham. "How was she dressed?" inquired the man in the turban. Mrs. Marsham described her niece's costume. "Useless to search for her. Miss Woodville has been carried off, or, rather, she has followed her abductor of her own free will. I divined that all this ridiculous rumpus had but one object,--to daze you and distract your attention. At the moment that I came to your relief I saw with my own eyes a brown domino with blue ribbons going towards one of the doors on the arm of a masked gentleman." "Esther! It is impossible, sir!" "I beg your pardon, madam. And I can go further: I can give you the name of her abductor." "Who was it?" "Lord Mowbray." "As you seem to know so much," said O'Flannigan, "pray who are you yourself? A sorcerer or the devil himself?" By way of answer the Oriental removed his false beard. "Mr. Fisher!" exclaimed the Quakeress and her cavalier in the same breath. "At your service. This is Prospero's beard in the 'Tempest.'"