"Open the door before I kick it down," cried the voice. "Look out, lads," cried Sim, excitedly, as he left the chair. "It's the police. Tak down them flags, and shove the swords out o' sight. It's the police." There was a rush, and the flags were hurriedly pulled down and folded up, while the swords were placed under the table. "Open this door," cried the same loud voice, and a heavy fist was applied to the panel. "You can't come in, I tell you," cried one of the sentries angrily. "This room's private." "You'd better tell them to open the door," said the deputation. "They can't touch you; we're within the law. It's a society meeting. Take your seat." "Open the door, then," said Sim, reluctantly resuming his place, when, as the door was thrown back, in came Joe Banks, closely followed by Tom Podmore. "Hooray, lads!" cried Sim, enthusiastically. "I always said as he would. It's Joe Banks come to join us at last, along wi' Tom Podmore." Volume 3, Chapter III. TO SAVE RICHARD. "Eve, my child," said Mrs Glaire, "what is it? Tell me what this means." "Oh, aunt, aunt," the poor girl sobbed. "Richard--Richard." "Yes, yes," said Mrs Glaire, drawing her to her breast, and laying her cool soft hands upon the burning brow; "tell me, darling. You have no secrets from me." "I will--directly--aunt," sobbed Eve; and then, in a burst of passionate grief, "He has been begging me to be his wife." "And is that so very dreadful, my child?" said Mrs Glaire. "And when I told him it could not be perhaps for years--not till I could freely forgive him--he accused me, so dreadfully." "Indeed, child! what did he say?" "Oh, I could not, cannot tell you," sobbed Eve. "Yes, yes, my poor little frightened bird," said Mrs Glaire, caressing her, "you can tell me all." "I will, aunt," said the girl, starting up, looking flushed and eager, as she hastily dried her eyes, and speaking now indignantly; "he accused me, aunt, of encouraging Mr Selwood." "And have you, Eve?" "Oh, aunt dear, never, never." This with a wondering, almost angry, look. "And has Mr Selwood ever made any advances to you, my dear?" said Mrs Glaire, watching curiously the bright blushing face before her. "Never, aunt dear, never. He has always been so kind and gentlemanly. Never by word or by look, aunt." "No, child, he would not," said Mrs Glaire, slowly; "he is a gentleman whom we can trust and love." "Love, aunt?" "Yes, child, as a very dear friend. But about Richard, Eve. He was very hot and passionate?" "Yes, aunt. Most cruel to me." "And you told him you could not forgive him for his cruel neglect and trifling with--with that poor girl?" "Yes, aunt," said Eve, struggling hard to keep up her firmness; "but not quite all you say. I did not tell him I would not forgive him." "What then, my child?" "That I could not forgive him yet, not till I saw that he was truly sorry for the past." "You told him this, Eve?" "Yes, aunt dear. Was it wrong?"