"He's trying to escape," said Clarice, excitedly, and, as the applause had now ceased, several people overheard and looked round, inquiringly. "No!" murmured Mrs. Dumps, dragging the girl down, with unexpected strength, "hold your tongue, Mr. Ferdinand--for Zara's sake." "Justice must be done," retorted Clarice, anxious to have the miscreant captured forthwith. "For your own sake, then," muttered the woman, with white lips. Clarice, truly surprised, dropped back into her seat. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded, indignantly. "You know--you know," murmured the other, still holding on convulsively. "Zara said that she had power to make you marry her. If you make trouble over Osip, she may use that power in another way." "What nonsense," returned Clarice, shrugging. All the same, she remained quiet, for the time being. From Mrs. Dumps' hurried speech, it was apparent that Zara really had some hold over Ferdy, and would not hesitate to use it to his harm, if anything came of his supposed interference with her shady doings. But Clarice wondered that Zara, bold and daring as she was, cared to connect herself with so dangerous a man as the assassin of so many people. Osip's association with her, and her accusation of the vicar, and her admitted presence near the house about the hour of the crime, looked as though she knew much more than she chose to tell. Also, her power over Ferdy might implicate him in some way in the infernal doings of the Purple Fern. Clarice, therefore, to save Ferdy from a possible accusation, resolved to take no measures to have Osip captured until such time as she knew more exactly how matters stood. Shortly, Mrs. Dumps released her hold, and turned paler than ever. "Take me out; get me brandy--Three Star," whispered the little woman, who had undoubtedly received a great shock. Clarice saw that she was on the verge of fainting, so at once piloted her along the row of seats to the nearest bar, and procured her a glass of liqueur brandy. The flighty barmaid--no doubt a friend of Ferdy's--saluted Clarice with an engaging smile and a slangy greeting, finally remarking that the old girl--meaning Mrs. Dumps--looked chippy. The insult to her years, as well as the strong liquor, brought back the colour to Mrs. Dumps' cheeks, and the stiffness to her back. Replacing the glass on the counter with a bang, she frowned on the saucy girl. "You are a bold, painted hussy," snapped Mrs. Dumps, aggressively. "The brandy's gone to your aunt's head, Ferdy," giggled the barmaid, in no wise disturbed; "take her home, dear boy, else she's bound to be run in, for looking so pretty." "You brazen bag-a-rags," sniffed Mrs. Dumps, "you Jezebel of the slums, how dare you insult a lady, you horrid--" here Clarice, fearing that there would be trouble, since the barmaid was losing her temper, dragged Mrs. Dumps hurriedly away. "If you keep company with such bold sluts, Mr. Ferdinand," she said, indignantly, "you shan't marry my daughter."