At that dreadful announcement the Blackamoor was struck speechless and motionless, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet; and in the next instant he was in the grasp of Dykes and Bingham, who, having business at the Sessions House, happened to be amongst the crowd gathered at the entrance of Red Lion Street. “Yes--seize him--hold him tight!” yelled Benjamin Bones: “he is Tom Rain, I tell you--his face is coloured purposely--but I knew that he is Tom Rain!” “And hold that miscreant also!” ejaculated Rainford--for he indeed the Blackamoor was: “seize him--let him not escape!” he cried, recovering the power of speech, as his eyes again caught a glimpse of the blood-stained hands of Old Death. “There has been murder committed in this house----My God! my God!” The crowd had now not only increased to such an extent as to render the way perfectly impassable; but a tremendous sensation suddenly seized upon the assemblage,--the news that Tom Rain, the celebrated highwayman, had escaped death by some miraculous means, and was once more in custody, circulating like wild-fire. Dykes and Bingham, knowing that in such a case the sympathies of the mob were most likely to turn in favour of the prisoner, hurried him and Old Death into the house, whither they were followed by three or four other constables; and the door was immediately closed in the face of the crowd, and secured within. On reaching the sitting-room the first-floor, the party halted; and Old Death, now completely overcome by the excitement of the incidents which had so rapidly succeeded each other in a short half-hour, threw himself exhausted into a chair. “Well, Mr. Rainford,” said Dykes, with something like a malicious grin, “I am sorry for this business--but how, in the name of all that’s wonderful, did you escape after being so deuced well hung as I seed you was with, my own eyes?” “Silence!” ejaculated Rainford, in an imperious tone: “and come with me at once down below. For, as sure as you are there, murder--a horrible murder has been committed by that wretch,” pointing to Old Death, who now quivered beneath his furious looks; “and, if you doubt it, behold the blood upon his hands!” added Tom Rain, with a cold shudder. “Bring him along with us, Bingham,” said Dykes, addressing his brother officer. “No--no--I won’t go down there again!” yelled forth the murderer, his countenance becoming convulsed with horror; for he was now afraid of his crime, in the revulsion of his feelings. “Well--let him stay here in custody,” observed Dykes; “and me and a couple of the runners will go with Mr. Rainford.” The officer and the two myrmidons whom he had selected, accordingly proceeded with Tom Rain into the room where the trap-door of the spiral stair-case had been left open by Old Death; and the constables surveyed each other with, mingled apprehension and astonishment.