The detective and his companion were coming downstairs, led by the sniffing and contemptuous Priscilla. They came down cautiously with their heavy boots, as if they might have slipped on the soft carpets. “Well,” said Meredith, as they came in sight, “found anything? We are waiting here to hear your news.” “No, sir; the young gentleman have got clean away, so far as I can see,” said the policeman; “but you know, sir, as well as me, for a man that’s known to struggle with the p’leece is no good. He’ll be got at, sooner or later, and it’s far better to give himself up at once.” “That is exactly my opinion,” said Meredith, “and I should have given him that advice if either of us had known what you meant; but, you see, a young gentleman who has nothing on his conscience does not think what is the wisest thing to do about the police--for he does not expect to have anything to do with them.” “I hope he have as easy a conscience as that,” said the detective. “I hope he has, and I don’t doubt it, either. Well--what are you going to do now? You’ve looked through all this part of the house, I suppose?” “We began with the upper rooms first.” “That was scarcely wise of you,” said Meredith, “he might have popped out of one of those rooms and run for it, while you were busy upstairs.” “Scarcely that, sir,” said the policeman, with a grin--and he opened the door, revealing suddenly a colleague erect and burly in his blue uniform upon the step outside. This sight made even Meredith silent for a moment. It made the peril and the watch real, and brought before him all the difficulties to be encountered if Dolff (which seemed incredible) should actually be taken, committed to prison, and tried for a murderous attack upon his own life. It was so appalling, and he knew so little how to meet it if it really became an actual situation to be reckoned with, that for a moment he was stunned; then he thought it best to burst into a laugh. The effect on Mrs. Harwood was naturally still more serious. The poor lady began to cry: “Is it my boy, my Dolff, that they are hunting down like that? Oh! Charley, you are the only one that can tell them how--how ridiculous it is--tell them it’s not true.” “I’m very sorry, ma’am, to disturb you,” said the policeman, “but will you just move your chair from that door? I beg your pardon, I didn’t know the lady couldn’t move--let me do it--thank you, miss--away from that door.” “That’s not a door,” said Julia, promptly, “it’s been shut up since ever I remember; that other is the dining-room where Charley Meredith lives, and that is the library that is standing open. And this is the passage that leads to the kitchen and the pantry. And there’s the drawing-room on the other side, And this is a cupboard, and this----”