The police had arrived with a warrant to search the house. Mrs. Swinton seemed turned to stone. The rector drooped his head in resignation, and stood with hands clenched at his side, looking appealingly at his wife. He said nothing, but his eyes beseeched her to be brave, to say the words that would save her son, to surrender in the name of truth and justice. She understood, but refused; and the police proceeded with their search. Now that further concealment was useless, they were led upstairs. Dick, lying in his deck-chair, heard them coming, and guessed what had happened. He dropped his book upon his lap, and, when the police inspector and the detective entered the room, he was quite prepared. "Well, so you've found me," he cried, with a laugh. "It's no good your thinking of taking me, unless you've brought a stretcher, for I can't walk." "We sha'n't take you without doctor's orders, if you're ill, sir." "Well, he won't give you the order, so you'd better leave your warrant, and run away and play." "I have to warn you, sir," said the officer pompously, "that anything you say will be taken down in evidence against you." "Well, take that down in evidence--what I've just said. You're a smart lot to look everywhere except in the most likely place. Take that down as well." "We don't want any impudence. You're our prisoner; we shall put an officer in the house." "Well, all I ask is that you won't make things more unpleasant for my mother and father than is absolutely necessary. Now, get out. I'm reading an interesting book. If you should see Mr. Ormsby, you can give him my kind regards, and tell him he's a bigger cad than I thought, and, when I'm free, I'll repeat the dose I gave him at our club dinner. Say I'm sorry I didn't rob his bank of seventy thousand instead of seven thousand." "Do I understand, sir," said the officer, taking out his notebook, "that you confess to defrauding the bank of seven thousand dollars?" "Oh, certainly! I'll confess to anything you like, only get out." Netty had taken refuge in the drawing-room, where she locked herself in, inspired with an unreasoning terror, and a dread of seeing her brother handcuffed and carried out of the house. The rector and his wife stood face to face in the study, with the table between them. "For the last time, Mary, I implore you to speak." He raised his hand, and his eyes blazed with a light new and strange to her. "I tell you, there is no need for me to speak, John. This can all be settled in a few hours, when I have denounced father to his face, and compelled him to retract." "When you have compelled him to add lie to lie. Mary--wife--I charge you to speak, and save me the necessity of denouncing you." "John, you are mad. Trouble has turned your brain. What are you saying?" "I am no longer your husband. I am your judge." "Oh, John, John--give me time--give me a little time. I promise you, I will set everything right in a few hours."