As the man spoke he slipped his hand into his pocket and took out something. “My mate is waiting outside,” he said gravely, “and I have got a dog-cart handy. I have a warrant here for your arrest, sir.” “For my arrest?” cried Pelham. “Yes, Sir Richard, for your arrest on suspicion of having murdered the late Sir Piers Pelham.” The words fell on Dick’s ears without at first conveying any impression. The man repeated them. “You had better come quietly, sir,” he continued. “As I said just now, I have a trap outside, and if we drive off at once to Haversham station we can take the next train to town. Anything you say now, sir, will be used against you, so you had best be silent. “Stop a minute. I must think,” said Pelham. He took off his soft cap and put up his hand to his forehead as if to brush away some hair. His brain was in a whirl, but his first consecutive and clear thought was for Barbara. When she returned home that night he would not be there; she would miss him, she would wonder what had become of him. “Of course there is a mistake,” thought the young man. “I don’t quite comprehend it, but Barbara, whatever happens, must not be frightened.” He turned and looked at the man who had come to arrest him. “I will go with you, of course,” he said. “The matter will doubtless be cleared up immediately, but I should like first to leave a note for my wife. Do you permit it?” “Yes, sir, provided I come with you to the house.” “You need not do that,” said Pelham. He shrugged his shoulders, took his pocket-book out of his pocket, tore a leaf from it and wrote a few words. “DARLING,—I am called to town on sudden business. Do not be uneasy. I hope to return to-morrow. “Yours, DICK.” He folded the note and gave it to a gardener who was passing. “Take this to the house,” he said, “and tell the servants to deliver it to your mistress when she returns.” The man took it without the least apparent curiosity and went away. Then Pelham turned to the police constable. “I am at your service,” he said. “I presume you will not think it necessary to handcuff me?” “I think you are to be trusted, sir,” said the man. Pelham nodded, and the ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. A moment later he was driving to Haversham in the company of the two police constables. When they reached the station they took tickets in a third-class compartment; one of them tipped the guard to allow them to have it to themselves.