“Because I’ve been talking with old Ben Bones,” answered Bingham; “and he told me as how he’d been kidnapped too, and kept a prisoner down there for a matter of ten weeks;--and how there was a lot on ’em--and Josh Pedler and Tim Splint among the rest. So, when he mentioned them names, I pricks up my ears--and I asks him a question or two; and I find that they was all kidnapped just at the time that the Torrens affair was a-making sich a noise: so it’s a clear case.” “Clear enough, to be sure!” exclaimed Dykes. “Ben Bones doesn’t seem to know any thing about that affair,” continued Dykes: “cos why, he was lugged off and took down in that there place afore the business was made public by Sir Christopher and the doctor. But, I say--what has happened below?” “A young o’oman killed--that’s all,” answered Dykes. “So here’s a pretty day’s business for us, Bingham: a man that had been hung, took up fust--then a murder diskivered, and the murderer in our power--and now this here affair about the Government reward. Well--we’ve been rather slack lately--and a little okkipation’s quite a blessin’.” Thus conversing together, Mr. Dykes and Mr. Bingham returned to the apartment where Old Death was still sitting in a chair, watched by a couple of constables: but the moment Rainford, who had only a confused idea, of what was passing around him, was led into that room, he started back in horror--exclaiming, “No--no: I cannot bear to be in the company of this dreadful man!” Old Death, to whom he pointed, grinned in savage triumph: but Rainford had already rushed back into the laboratory, attended by Dykes and two runners. Almost at the same instant, the lad Cæsar who had heard from the crowd outside enough to convince him that Rainford had been discovered, and also that a person answering the description of Old Death had first denounced the resuscitated highwayman, and had then himself been arrested on a charge of murder,--Cæsar, we say, now made his appearance, and threw himself at his master’s feet, exclaiming wildly, “Oh! no--my generous friend--my more than father--they shall not take you from us!” “Jacob,” said Tom Rain, raising the distracted youth, who was no other than the reader’s former acquaintance, Jacob Smith,--“do not yield to grief. We have need of all our courage on this occasion. I have received a frightful blow--wounded I am in the tenderest point--oh! I can scarcely restrain my anguish, while conjuring you to be calm! And yet it is necessary to meet my afflictions face to face! Hasten, then, to Finchley--and break the sad intelligence to Mr. de Medina and Esther: tell them, Jacob--as gently as you can--tell them that Benjamin Bones has crowned all his enormities by----” “My God! it is then too true!” ejaculated the youth; covering his face with his hands. “Yes--Tamar is no more!” added Rainford, tears gushing from his eyes. “My poor wife has been brutally--foully murdered by that miscreant!”