He stepped into the cab, and the three burly forms of the policemen also went with him. The word was given to the driver, and a few minutes later he felt himself drawn towards the Town Hall. "Shall I pull down the blinds, Mr. Stepaside?" said Broglin. For a moment he was tempted to say "Yes," but only for a moment. It was no use. What would be the good of blinds? Every one would know. Even now he saw groups of people in the street, talking excitedly, while more than one looked curiously at the cab in which he rode. He had no doubt that reporters were near, eager to get a sensational account for the local papers. It would be a godsend to them. Paul Stepaside, Member of Parliament for Brunford, the man who had been spoken of as the idol of the people--he, whose one speech in the House of Commons had given him an almost national reputation, would now be notorious for one of the foulest deeds of which a man is capable. Still, he did not lose control over himself. He sat quietly, grimly, thoughtfully. There was that in his heart which he dared not reveal, and which at all hazards must be kept buried. Presently the cab reached the Town Hall. A number of loafers were hanging around, while many had gone so far as to leave their work in order not to miss such a sight. It was not like an ordinary murder. Ned Wilson was the son of one of the most prominent men in the district; and Paul Stepaside, who had come to Brunford only a few years before, had become the most noted man in the town--and now it had come to this! A few minutes later he found himself in a cold, dark cell. Of what he thought during the many hours he remained there it is not easy to tell, but that he felt the terror of it and the grim tragedy which pervaded everything can be easily realised. He was apprehended for murder, and he had been taken to that gloomy cell because of it. Of course, the reasons were plain enough, and as far as he could see, the police officials could not evade their duty. The long-standing feud between himself and Wilson was well known. Many threats had been uttered on both sides, while the quarrel which had taken place the previous night had evidently become public property. It seemed to him as though the hand of Fate had been at work in order to encompass his ruin. Of course, he was innocent of the deed. He had never struck Ned Wilson the blow which deprived him of life; nevertheless, every circumstance seemed to point to him; and, to crown all, it was his knife that had been found in Wilson's heart.