For answer, the vicar pointed to the windows, and in less than a minute the room was empty, though there would have been plenty of time to escape by the door, for the one policeman coming on the mission to see if Slee had made for the meeting-place of his party did not hurry his footsteps, partly from reasons of dignity, and partly because he was alone. Volume 3, Chapter XIV. A FAITHFUL LOVER. The announcement was quite correct. Sim Slee and his companions had broken away through the ceiling, dislodged the tiles, and escaped; and when the vicar reached home, he found Mrs Slee waiting up for him, trembling and pale, while her eyes were red with weeping. She clung to him hysterically, and asked if the news was true, and that her husband was in prison. "They came and told me the police had got him," she sobbed. "Ah, he's a bad one sometimes, but he's my maister, sir, he's my maister." "He was taken, Mrs Slee," said the vicar, "I'm sorry to say. I was present. You know I went out to-night, for I was in dread of some outrage; and after being about a time, I found that something was wrong, for the men were all waiting as in expectation." "He always would mix himself up with these troubles i'stead o' wucking," sobbed the poor woman. "Fortunately I met two of the men I could trust, and found that an attempt was to be made to blow up the works." "Ah, but Sim wouldn't do that, sir," sobbed Mrs Slee. "He dursen't." "I'm sorry to say, Mrs Slee, that one of the policemen had watched him, and seen him help to carry a barrel of powder to the works." "Just like him--just like him," sobbed Mrs Slee; "but some one else was to fire it." "How did you know that?" said the vicar, sharply. "I only know as he dursen't hev done it hissen," sobbed the poor woman. "Poor lad, poor lad, there was nowt again him but the drink." "The men I met were in search of Daisy Banks," continued the vicar; "and we joined hands with the police, who took your husband and that man from London, and afterwards we reached the works, and they are safe." "I'm strange and glad they've took that London man," sobbed Mrs Slee; "but poor Sim! Poor, poor Sim! But I must go and say a word o' comfort to him. Smith, at station's a good, kind man." "Who'll ever say that woman is not faithful?" said the vicar to himself, as Mrs Slee hurried away to get her print hood, and, late as it was, to make her way to the station; but as she came back sobbing bitterly, he laid his hand upon her arm. "You need not go, Mrs Slee; your husband and his confederate have escaped." "Escaped? got awaya?" cried Mrs Slee. "Yes." "Gone out o' the town?" "Undoubtedly."