Jane struggled fiercely as she hurled these words back upon her accuser, and almost wrenched her arm from the policeman. “Hush, be quiet, I say!” commanded the man, sternly, “I’ll have no more of this; come along, marm, we’ve held court long enough in the street. If we wait in this way, the magistrate will be gone.” “Oh, I’m ready, I’m in a hurry to go,” said Madame, with her glittering eyes turned on Kelly; “it isn’t me that delays you; walk on, I’ll follow with all the pleasure in the world; perhaps she’s got the mate to this about her!” “No such thing,” exclaimed Jane, with another burst of passion, “you know well enough that I told you it was in my trunk.” “Oh!” ejaculated the officer, with a wink at the old woman, who gave back a significant nod, and cast another jeering glance at her victim. “Did you tell me that? thank you, dear, it’s pleasant to find a person so frank. You hear, sir, she confesses. Kind, isn’t it?” Jane was about to speak, and probably in her wrath might have committed herself still further, but the policeman dragged her forward. She made a little resistance at first, but at last moved on more patiently, though still burning with indignation, which was likely to break forth to her disadvantage the moment she was allowed to speak again. Madame De Marke seemed to be aware of this, for though she appeared to follow the officer and his charge, every few minutes she would glide up to the side of her victim, and whisper some taunt or jeer that stung the woman’s wrath into fresh vigor, and in this state she was placed before the magistrate. The moment she entered the police-office, Madame De Marke changed her whole manner; the glitter of her eyes was subdued, her demeanor became quiet, and notwithstanding her mean garments and general untidiness, there was something about her which bespoke a knowledge of good society and its usages. Besides, her face bore evidence of a keen intellect, the more remarkable from the squalid poverty of her appearance. She advanced before the judge, and made her charge in a clear, truthful manner, that left no room for doubt, though the magistrate seemed a good deal astonished by the value of the property stolen; and when Madame, with her usual boast, spoke of rolling in gold, an incredulous smile stole across his lips. Madame De Marke saw the smile, and a little of her natural shrewishness broke forth. “You don’t believe me; you think, perhaps, I stole the things first myself,” she said, sharply. “No, I do not trouble myself to think of anything that has not taken the form of evidence,” said the judge, smiling with an expression that Madame liked still less than the first; “to-morrow we will look into the case, if you appear against the woman.” “But you will lock her up—you will not allow her to go home?” cried the old woman, eagerly; “she will hide my diamonds away, and I shall never see them again!”