"Well, Major McShane, I would gladly have risen from a sick bed to have had this paper put into my hands; we must call upon the Secretary of State to-morrow, and I have no doubt but that the poor lad will be speedily released, take possession of his property, and be an honour to the county." "An honour to old England," replied McShane; "but I shall now wish you good night." McShane, before he went to bed, immediately wrote a letter to Mrs Austin, acquainting her with what he had done, and the intentions of Mr Trevor, sending it by express; he simply stated the facts, without any comments. But we must now return to Portsmouth. The advertisement of Mr Small did not escape the keen eye of the police-constable who had arrested our hero--as the reader must recollect the arrest was made so quietly that no one was aware of the circumstance, and as the reward of 100 pounds would be a very handsome addition to the 200 pounds which he had already received--the man immediately set off for Portsmouth on the outside of the coach, and went to Mr Small, where he found him in the counting-house with Mr Sleek. He soon introduced himself; and his business with them; and such was Mr Small's impatience that he immediately signed a cheque for the amount, and handed it to the police-officer, who then bluntly told him that our hero had been tried for murder, and sentenced to transportation, his real name being Rushbrook, and not O'Donahue. This was a heavy blow to Mr Small: having obtained all the particulars from the police-constable, he dismissed him, and was for some time in consultation with Mr Sleek; and as it would be impossible long to withhold the facts, it was thought advisable that Mrs Phillips and Emma should become acquainted with them immediately, the more so as Emma had acknowledged that there was a mystery about our hero, a portion of which she was acquainted with. Mrs Phillips was the first party to whom the intelligence was communicated, and she was greatly distressed. It was some time before she could decide upon whether Emma, in her weak state, should be made acquainted with the melancholy tidings, but as she had suffered so much from suspense, it was at last considered advisable that the communication should be made. It was done as cautiously as possible; Emma was not so shocked as they supposed she would have been at the intelligence. "I have been prepared for this, or something like this," replied she, weeping in her mother's arms, "but I cannot believe that he has done the deed; he told me that he did not, when he was a child; he has asserted it since. Mother, I must--I will go and see him." "See him, my child! he is confined in gaol." "Do not refuse me, mother, you know not what I feel--you know not--I never knew myself till now how much I loved him. See him I must, and will. Dearest mother, if you value my life, if you would not drive reason from its seat, do not refuse me."