"Taking possession of my own. Look here, Leslie, my old signet-ring that scoundrel took from a nail over my chimney-piece." "It's a lie, it's--" "My crest, and enough by itself to justify the police being called up." "A trick, a trumped-up charge," cried Pradelle. "You must prove that at the same time you clear yourself of robbing Van Heldre." "I--I rob Van Heldre! I swear I never had a shilling of his money." "You were not coming away when I knocked you down with old Crampton's ruler, eh?" Pradelle shrank from the upraised stick, and with an involuntary movement clapped his hand to his head. "See that, Leslie!" cried the old man with a sneering laugh. "Yes, that was the place. I hit as hard as I could." "A trick, a trap! Bah! I'm not scared by your threats. You stand aside, and let us pass!" cried Pradelle in a loud, bullying way, as he tried to draw Louise toward the door; but she freed herself from his grasp. "No, no!" she cried wildly, as with ears and eyes on the strain she glanced at window and door, and caught her uncle's arm. "Hah! glad you have so much good sense left. Nice scoundrel this to choose, my girl!" "Uncle!" she whispered, "you shall let me explain." "I don't want to hear any explanation," cried the old man angrily. "I know quite enough. Will you come home with me?" "Yes!" she cried eagerly, and Leslie drew a breath full of relief. "No!" The negative came like a cry of agony. "I cannot, uncle, I cannot." "I'll see about that," cried the old man. "Now, Leslie, ask Sergeant Parkins to step up here." "Let him if he dares!" cried Pradelle fiercely. "Oh, he dares," said Uncle Luke, smiling. "Call him up, for it is a criminal case, after all." "Stop!" cried Pradelle, as Leslie laid his hand upon the door. "Yes, stop--pray, pray stop!" cried Louise in agony; and with a wild look of horror, which stung Leslie with jealous rage. "Uncle, you must not do this." "I'd do it if it was ten times as hard!" cried the old man. "What shall I say--what shall I do?" moaned Louise. "Uncle, uncle, pray don't do this. You must not send for the police. Give me time to explain--to set you right." "Shame upon you!" cried the old man fiercely. "Defending such a scoundrel as that!" "No, no, uncle, I do not defend this man. Listen to me; you do not know what you are doing." "Not know what I am doing? Ah!" He turned from her in disgust, and with a look of agony that thrilled him, she caught Leslie's arm. "You will listen to me, Mr Leslie. You must not, you shall not, call in the police." He did not speak for the moment, but stood hesitating as if yielding to her prayer; but the frown deepened upon his brow as he loosened her grasp upon his arm. "It is for your good," he said coldly, "to save you from a man like that." "I must speak, I must speak!" cried Louise, and then she uttered a wail of horror and shrank to her uncle's side.