She stared wildly like a hunted hare, and then turned and made a dash towards her bedroom door, but only to be caught in the arms of McRae, who stepped suddenly thither to intercept her mad flight. He held her firmly with one hand, while with the other he drew something from his pocket and suddenly snapped the handcuffs upon her wrists. She burst into passionate tears. "I am sorry to do this, madam, but you forced me to it," said McRae gravely and kindly. She was a pitiable object as she stood there, guilty, degraded, and powerless. Her wreath of lilies had been knocked off and trampled under foot in the scuffle. The bouquet of lilies that rested on her bosom was crushed. Her lace and swan's-down trimmings were torn. Her hair was disheveled, her face pale, and her eyes streaming with tears. "Why do they make me a prisoner?" she sobbed. "I told you, madam, it was for your share in the abduction of--" "Abduction! abduction! I don't know what you mean by abduction! I did not kill the black negro person! I did not put her into the sea! It was Lord Vincent! I never helped him! No, not at all! He would not let me! And if he would, I should not have done it! He did it all himself! And it is cruel to make a poor, small, little woman suffer for what a big man does!" she cried, amid piteous tears and sobs. "Faustina! Faustina! what are you saying?" exclaimed the viscount, in consternation. "The truth, my lord viscount; you know it! The truth, messieurs, I assure you! Lord Vincent killed the black negro woman and threw her into the sea! And I had nothing to do with, it! I did not even know it until all was over! And I will tell you all about it, messieurs, if you will only take these dreadful things off my poor, little, small wrists and let me go! It is cruel, messieurs, to fetter and imprison a poor, small little woman, for a big man's crime! Let me go free, messieurs, and I will tell you all about him," pleaded this weeping creature, who for the sake of her own liberty was willing to give her lover up to death. But you need not be surprised at this; for I told you long ago that there can be no honor, faith, or love among thieves, let the biographers of the Jack Shepherds and Nancy Sykeses say what they please to the contrary. "Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" The criminal is the most solitary creature upon earth; he has no ties--for the ties of guilt are nothing; they snap at the lightest breath of self-interest. Faustina's plea dismayed her accomplice and disgusted her captor. "Madam," said the latter, "you had better hold your peace. Your words criminate yourself as well as Lord Vincent." "How do they criminate myself? Oh, mon Dieu! what shall I do, since even my denials are made to tell against me!" she whimpered, wringing her hands. "Faustina, be silent!" said the viscount sternly. "My lord, we are ready to remove you," said McRae, advancing toward the viscount.