"You were sitting, white and trembling, in a pew near the door. 'The Prince' had followed the minister into an inner room or vestry, perhaps to pay the fee. The key of the vestry door was on the outside. Without a moment's hesitation I turned the key, locking the two of them in, so as to give us a few minutes in which to get away. Then I got you out, half supporting you, half carrying you, to where my own carriage was waiting, lifted you in, jumped in myself, and told the coachman to drive with all possible speed to the railway station. Here we were just in time to catch an express to New York, and when you recovered from the mesmeric state into which you had been thrown, and I found that you knew nothing of what had happened, I determined to keep my own counsel, and have told no one--not even your own father--the facts. From New York we went next day to Europe, travelling from country to country, so that the villain who had ruined your life might never find you. I had hoped that he was long since dead, and it was only when Max was telling us of the Dumpling's claim to be Napoleon that the horrible possibility--a possibility which afterwards became a certainty--occurred to me. "Even in those far-away days he had dreams of a revolution which he was one day to accomplish in England; even then he was passionately in sympathy with the poor, and talked about them exactly as he talked to Max. I recognised, from Max's description, the man whom he called 'The Dumpling,' as the man you and I had long ago known as 'The Prince,' and realised that he had tracked us at last. That was why Max saw him shadowing the house, and that is why you saw his face watching you through the window-pane. That was why I sent Max away, for while that man lives you can never be Max's wife." "She _shall_ be my wife," I interrupted, "if only she will consent to do me such high honour; for be this man 'Prince,' or be he 'Dumpling,' he has no power to come between Kate and me. You have told your story--now listen to mine." CHAPTER XXXVII. THE MAN IN THE CELLAR. "Yesterday night--so much has happened since then that it is difficult to believe it was so short a time ago--yesterday night, after the rioters had disbanded and gone home, I returned to my rooms in Adelphi Terrace, and after I had had some supper, I stepped out on the balcony, to smoke and to listen if all was quiet. "As I re-entered my room, someone, concealed behind one of the heavy curtains, seized me suddenly from behind, and as I turned angrily to free myself and to see who was my assailant, another man stepped out from behind the curtain on the other side of the window, and before I could prevent him, clapped a handkerchief saturated with chloroform over my nose and mouth. "When I came to myself, I found myself sitting in a strange room in the presence of the Dumpling.