“And give up these people you are so anxious to shield?” “No; persuade them to turn Queen’s evidence.” He began to move about impatiently. “Have it your own way, then, and for goodness sake let me know where the jewels are, and get this business over.” “You give me your word of honor that you will not only refrain from taking proceedings against any man but the murderer, but you will help to shield the others from the effects of their own folly?” “And wickedness,” added the earl, severely. “And wickedness.” “You are asking a great deal,” said the new Lord St. Austell, with a wry face. “Do you know the reputation I bear?” Deborah did. It was that of a close-fisted and sanctimonious prig. “Well, your lordship, you have only to say no, and I will set about getting these unfortunate men out of their scrape in another way.” She turned away impatiently. The noise of a heavy tramp of feet was heard coming down the stairs. The new earl tapped her arm petulantly. “I agree! I agree! I give my word of honor!” he mumbled, “And now get me the jewels as fast as you can,” he continued, in a burst of eagerness. Deborah brought out from under her cloak the two small flat paper parcels which Sep had given her, and placed them in the earl’s hands. He tore one of them open and quickly examined the contents. By his little murmur, by his very attitude, she saw that she need have no further fear for Rees or Sep. Indeed, the recovery of the jewels meant for him, social salvation. He buttoned them up hastily under his coat, hugging as it were himself and them as he did so. He had not time to repent having got them back by a bargain instead of by cheaper strategy, when Amos Goodhare, secured at last, was forced down the stairs by his captors with no great gentleness, and brought face to face with the brother of the man he had murdered. He had been seized by the policemen just as he was endeavoring to escape into the next house, by scrambling from window to window; he had got loose again, had squeezed through a trap-door on to the roof, and after a chase along the leads, rendered more exciting by their dangerously ruinous condition, he had been caught, dragged back, handcuffed, and finally brought down the staircase by which he had ascended. “Who’s this?” said one of the policemen roughly, as he looked the new earl up and down without apparently, having his suspicions allayed by any dignity in the little man’s appearance. “My brother,” said Amos promptly. “I am Charles Cenarth. It is my brother who has been murdered.” “Oh, ho! You don’t acknowledge your relationship to me, then,” said Goodhare in a mocking tone. “That’s ungrateful, when I’ve done for you what you’d never have dared to do for yourself,” he added, darting forward to whisper into the little man’s unwilling ear. “This gentleman is connected with my family and I’m sure he will be able to give a perfectly satisfactory account of himself,” said his frightened kinsman nervously.