“Done with, him, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Dykes, swelling with the importance of a man who had astounding news to communicate: “what hasn’t he done for his-self, you mean?” “Has he cut his throat--or taken poison?” demanded Old Death, eagerly. “Not he!” cried Dykes. “Why--you cursed old fence, you’ve always got wicked notions in your head--you have. Mr. Rainford is a genelman, every inch of him--and I always knowed it. He’s got a power of slap-up friends as won’t leave him long in the lurch, I can tell you.” And the officer bestowed a significant wink upon his listeners, whose curiosity he had now worked up to the highest pitch. “What--what has he done?” gasped Old Death, terribly excited with suspense. “Do you mean to say----that is--has he----_escaped_?” he demanded, scarcely able to give utterance to the word; so fearful was he lest Tom Rain, against whom he cherished a fiend-like hatred, should not again figure upon the scaffold. “Patience--patience,” said Mr. Dykes, taking a chair. “In the fust place, you must know, that in comes a lady--and who should she be but that very same Lady Hatfield as I’m sure Tom Rain robbed some months ago near Hounslow, although I couldn’t bring the thing home to him at the time----” “Well--well,” muttered Old Death, the agony of whose suspense was perfectly excruciating. “But fust I should tell you,” resumed Mr. Dykes, “that Miss de Medina comes in with her father and Lord Ellingham----” Old Death gave vent to a savage growl. “And now I understand all about that diamond affair, Bingham, you know,” continued the officer; “_for, although one of the sisters is a corpse and her face is disfigured_, I never in my life see such a likeness as there is between them.” We should observe that Old Death had already learnt, from the communications which had been made in his presence by the runners who were first in charge of Tom Rain on this eventful evening, that it was not Esther de Medina whom he had slain, but Tamar--the wife of the man whom he considered to be his most mortal enemy. “But as I was a-saying,” continued Dykes, “in comes Lady Hatfield; and, behold ye! she makes a regular set speech to prepare us all for what’s about to take place; and then she tells us plump that Tom Rain has received his Majesty’s free pardon!” “No--no!” yelled forth Old Death: “it’s a lie--it’s a lie!” “Hold your tongue, you cursed fence!” exclaimed Mr. Dykes, deeply indignant at having his word thus unceremoniously called in question. “Lady Hatfield had the paper with her, all reglar according to the stattit in that case made and purwided.” “It’s a forgery--a rank forgery!” shrieked Benjamin Bones, his countenance becoming truly appalling with its hideous workings. “And you have let him go, upon that pretence----you----you have----” And he fell back in his chair, gasping for breath.