Here the shrill voice died away in a gulp, and there was a sound of blows and scuffling. Carrington forced his way through the hedge, crying: "Hold on! What is this about?" At the sound of his voice the owner of elephants exclaimed: "The bobbies!" and, disengaging himself from the other, fled down the road; while his companion, who had started to follow him, was detained by Jack, who recognised his captive as none other than Richard Allingford. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Oh," said Allingford, "it's Mr. Carrington. Delighted to see you, I'm sure. Correcting that fellow. Says brother Robert stole elephant." His arrest had somewhat sobered him. "Of course," said Carrington, "he didn't steal the elephant." "Where is he?" "Your brother?" "Yes." "At Melton Court, near Salisbury; but you must not go there." "Yes, I will," replied Slippery Dick, waxing pugnacious, "Take the elephant fellow along, too--make him eat his words. Call my brother a thief, will he?" "You'll do nothing of the kind," said his captor. "You're wanted here by the police." "What!" "Yes. For assault and battery, and disturbing the peace. They have arrested another man, a Mr. Scarsdale, by mistake in your place." "I don't know anything about it. Never been here before to-night," protested the unregenerate one. "Well, you must come along with me and give yourself up, or----." But Carrington never finished the sentence; for at that moment he struck the ground very hard, and by the time he realised that Slippery Dick had tripped him, that personage had disappeared into the darkness, thus justifying his sobriquet. Jack picked himself up and struggled through the hedge; but no one was in sight, and the dull, distant sound of flying feet seemed to indicate that the Consul's brother was seeking fresh fields and pastures new with uncommon celerity. CHAPTER IX IN WHICH THE CONSUL AND MRS. SCARSDALE EMULATE THE KING OF FRANCE AND TWENTY THOUSAND OF HIS COMPATRIOTS Another day was dawning, a day that was destined to be most arduous, eventful, and important in the lives of all those with whom this narrative has to deal. Yet, at this hour in the morning, Carrington, sitting shivering on his bedside; Lady Melton, listening in her chamber for the departing footsteps of the faithful Bright; Aunt Eliza, drinking an early cup of coffee in preparation for a long day's work; the Consul and Mrs. Scarsdale, journeying to Southampton; Slippery Dick, pouncing on the sometime owner of elephants at a way-side alehouse; Scarsdale, pacing his prison cell; Mrs. Allingford, waiting, 'twixt hope and fear, for news of her husband; and the elephant, shrieking in his box-stall--these, one and all, entered regretfully upon this day fraught with so many complications.