"Where do you intend to take us then?" demanded the viscount, with a blush of shame, though with a tone of defiance. "To the police station house, for the night. In the morning you will be brought before the magistrate for examination." "To your beast of a station house?" said the viscount. The policeman bowed. "Ah, mon Dieu! will he take us out into the snow to-night? I cannot go! I should freeze to death! I should perish in the storm! It would be murder!" cried Faustina, wringing her hands. "You see it would be barbarous to drag a lady out in this horrible weather. Can you not leave her here for the night? and if you consider yourself responsible for her safe-keeping, can you not remain and guard her?" inquired his lordship, speaking, however, quite as much, or even more, for himself than for Faustina; for he was well aware that, if she were left, he would be also left. "My lord, it is impossible. I could not be answerable for my prisoner's safety if she were permitted to remain here all night, no matter how well guarded she might be. It was only a few weeks ago that a prisoner--a young girl she was, charged with poisoning-- persuaded me to hold her in custody through the night in her own chamber. I did so, placing a policeman on guard on the outside of each door. And yet, during the night she succeeded in making her escape down a secret staircase and through a subterranean passage, and got clear off. It was in just such an ancient place as this, my lord. I came near losing my office by it; and I made a resolution then never to trust a prisoner of mine out of my sight until I got him or her, as the case might be, safe under lock and key in my station house." "But, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! what will become of me?" wailed Faustina. "It will kill her. She is very tender," urged Lord Vincent. "Your lordship may order your own close carriage for her use. She may wrap up in all her furs. And though she may still suffer a good deal from the long, cold ride, she will not freeze, I assure you," said McRae. "Ah, but what do you take me for at all? I say that I did not kill the black negro woman; Lord Vincent did it." "Madam, neither you nor my lord are accused of murder," said McRae. "Ah! what, then, do you accuse us of?" "You will hear at the magistrate's office, madam," said the policeman, losing patience. "I say, what--whatever it was, Lord Vincent did it!" "Faustina, be silent! If no remnant of good faith leads you to spare me, spare yourself at least," said the viscount. "Will you order your carriage?" said McRae. "Cuthbert, go down and have the close carriage brought around. Put the leopard skins inside and bottles of hot water," ordered the viscount. "Madam, you had better summon your maid and have your wrappings brought to you, and anything else you may wish to take with you," advised McRae.