"Then the sergeant here will," cried Pradelle savagely. "Look here, sit down and wait for a few minutes, and you can take Harry Vine as well." "What do you mean?" cried the sergeant roughly. "Only that he has gone out to raise the money for a bolt to France, and he'll be back directly. Two birds with one stone." "Only a trick, sir," said the sergeant grimly. "Now, Mr Pradelle, hansom or four-wheeler? I give you your choice." "Four-wheeler," said Pradelle, with a sneering laugh. "My poor brother!" moaned Louise, as she made a clutch at the air, and then sank fainting in her uncle's arms. "You scoundrel! to speak like that," cried Uncle Luke fiercely. "Here, what do you mean?" said the sergeant. "What I said. He wasn't drowned. Harry was too clever for that." _Click--click_! A pair of handcuffs were fastened to his wrists with marvellous celerity, and he was swung into a chair. "I don't know whether this is a bit of gammon, Mr Pradelle," said the sergeant sharply, "but I never lose a chance." He paid not the slightest heed to the other occupants of the room, but ran to the window, threw it open, and called to some one below, but only his last words were heard by those inside. "Quick! first one you see, and I'll give you a shilling." The sergeant closed the window, and crossed to Pradelle. "If it's a trick it will do you no good. You see, to begin with, it has brought you those." "I don't care," said Pradelle, glowering at Uncle Luke. "It will take some of the pride out of him, and I shan't go alone." "It is a trick, sergeant. Take the scoundrel away." "Must make sure, sir. Sorry for the lady, but she may have been deceived that horrible night, and there's more in this than I can understand. Your friend be long, sir?" "Mr Leslie? I expected him back with you." "Mr Leslie went on out into the street, sir. Here, I have it. He has been in hiding down your way, and came up with the lady there." "That's it, sergeant, you're a 'cute one," said Pradelle with a laugh. "Who has been in hiding?" "Your nephew, sir. I see it all now. What a fool I've been." "My nephew!--Not dead?" "Harry--brother!" moaned Louise. "I could do no more. Ah!" Uncle Luke fell a-trembling as he caught the half-insensible girl's hand, gazing wildly at the sergeant the while. "Look here, Pradelle, no more nonsense. Will he come back?" "If you keep quiet of course. Not if he sees you." "All!" ejaculated the sergeant, crossing to the door as he heard a step; and hurrying out he returned directly with a constable in uniform. "Stop!" he said shortly, and he nodded to the prisoner. "Very sorry, Mr Vine, sir," he then said; "but you must stay here for a bit. I am going down to wait outside." "But, Parkins!" cried Uncle Luke, agitatedly, "I cannot. If this is true--that poor boy--no, no, he must not be taken now." "Too late, sir, to talk like that," cried the sergeant. "You stop there."