For my own part, I ate a hearty supper, and went to bed. It was not without the fear that the police would visit me before morning, that I lay on my couch thinking of the startling events of the evening. Yet, as I repeated my prayer that night, I felt that I had done no more than my duty--my duty to Kate, my mother, and myself. I would have given half the money in my belt to know whether Tom Thornton was dead or alive. I had not injured him from malice or for revenge, only in self-defence; and I felt that a just God would burden him, rather than me, with the consequences of the blow I had struck. I went to sleep at last, with the prayer in my heart, that Tom Thornton would recover from the injury he had received. Kate was quite ill in the morning; but Mrs. Macombe cared for her tenderly, and assured me nothing serious would result from the terror and excitement to which she had been subjected. After breakfast I hastened to the store of McKim & Loraine. Kate's uncle had returned the preceding evening, and I waited till he came down town. In as few words as possible, I told him what Kate's situation had been at the house of her step-mother, what abuse she had suffered, and in what manner she had escaped. He was indignant, and insisted that she should immediately make his house her home. Then I showed him the note signed with his name, which the hackman had brought for Kate. It was a forgery, and Mr. Loraine could hardly control his anger. I related to him our adventure at Harlem, and described the scene on the top of the hack. "Served him right!" exclaimed he. "I may have killed him," I added. "I hope you did," replied he, bluntly. "I will go and see Kate at once." On our arrival at the hotel, we found the hackman there who had driven us out to Harlem. CHAPTER XXI. IN WHICH ERNEST VISITS MADISON PLACE. "I'M waiting for you," said the hack-driver, as I entered the office of the hotel with Mr. Loraine. "What do you want of me?" I demanded, supposing the villain was charged with the execution of some further design upon me. "I want my money," he growled. "What money?" "For driving you out to Harlem." "Do you expect me to pay that?" "As the gintleman didn't pay me, I expect you to do so," he replied, with refreshing coolness. "Where is the gentleman now?" I asked; and, wishing to obtain some information in regard to Tom, if I could, I did not decline to pay his demand. "I don't know where he is." "What became of him?" "With the help of some people I found in the bar-room, I took him into the public house. Bedad, it was a hard crack you guv him," added the hackman, in a low tone. "If you pay me the tin dollars, I won't say anything agin you." "You carried him into the public house," I repeated. "What then?"