“This is a police officer,” said Sylvester, quietly. “He has a warrant for your arrest. You were wrong in thinking me such a fool as to trust you. My object in coming here was to make certain that you had left by this train. If you had not, the police would have been on your track immediately. If you had been leaving alone, I should have told the officer you were not here, and you would have gone scot free, and the matter would have been hushed up. As it is, you have played me false, prevailed by some devilish lie upon Miss Defries to elope with you; and, by God! I'll have no pity on you. Mr. Wigram, this is the gentleman I was speaking of.” The police officer, on being summoned, drew near, and again touching his hat stated his errand with due formality and explained that he had no wish to create any unpleasantness in a public place, and that if Mr. Usher would walk quietly by his side to the cab rank, they could drive away unnoticed. A little knot of people saying farewell to friends by an open carriage door, and one or two hurrying passengers, eyed Roderick's ghastly face with some curiosity. The guard of the train bustled up. “Now, sir, perhaps you had better take your seat.” “I am prevented, at the last moment, from travelling with you,” said Roderick, with bitter cynicism. The guard saluted and passed on. Roderick's eyes followed him and rested on Ella looking anxiously from the carriage window. He turned away with a sob. “Come on, if I must go,” he said hoarsely; “you will pay for this outrageous blunder, Dr. Lanyon.” He walked away defiantly with the police officer, and Sylvester went up to Ella. The guard was just fitting the key in the door to lock it. Sylvester laid a detaining touch upon his arm. “The lady is getting out.” The door was thrown open. Sylvester took Ella's travelling-bag from the rack. “Your companion is not going abroad this evening,” said he, pausing with the bag on the seat. “And it will be scarcely worth your while to go to Amsterdam alone.” The girl's white, questioning face made him relent for a moment. “Forgive me,” he said more kindly. “But what has happened was inevitable. I have only saved you from the hands of a scoundrel.” “How dare you call him that?” she whispered with trembling lips. He did not reply, but handed the bag and wraps to a porter whom he summoned, and descending from the carriage stood in readiness to assist Ella to the platform. She obeyed his sign involuntarily, but as soon as she stood opposite him, she turned upon him with flashing anger. “Now tell me at once what all this means,” she said in a low, concentrated tone. “I am not a child to have things hidden from me. I have lived too many hours to-day in darkness. What does it mean? Why are you here, coming between me and the man I am to marry? Where has Roderick gone? Tell me. I must know.” “I should like to spare you the knowledge,--at all events, for the present.”