Miss Burton was more mistress of herself, but Hugh observed that her cheek went a shade paler. Well, it was only natural. These two had been living in fear of the law for more years than they cared to remember. And they had thought they were safely in harbour. Poor fools! She turned to Pomfret, and forced a wan smile. "It is really quite alarming, Mr. Pomfret, visitors at this time of the evening. And you know so well that nobody in Blankfield, except yourselves, ever crosses our threshold." The happy Jack, the husband of a few short hours, was quite unperturbed. He smiled back at her confidently. "Somebody come to the wrong house, I should say. Why, you have gone quite pale! What a nervous little thing it is!" He whispered the last sentence in a lover-like tone. Murchison felt every nerve in his body tingling. Jack was in a state of ignorance. The brother and sister, he was sure, were filled with vague and undefined alarms. He, alone out of the four sitting in that charming little drawing-room awaiting the announcement of dinner, was sure of what was going to happen. He stole a look across at Pomfret with the happy, fatuous smile of the successful lover on his face. Poor devil! In another couple of minutes he would be terribly disillusioned. There was a heavy trampling of feet across the hall. The visitors, whoever they were, had pushed past the trim and ladylike parlourmaid. The drawing-room door was flung open, and the two big men, Davidson and his colleague, advanced towards Burton who was standing in the middle of the room. The detective spoke in a clear, ringing voice. "It's all up, Mr. Burton, I won't trouble to recount your various aliases. I've a warrant here to arrest you on a charge of forgery. You've gone free for some time, but one of your old pals has peached upon you. Hard luck for you, otherwise you might have been playing still, perhaps for ever, this nice little 'stunt' at Blankfield. I suppose you will come quietly?" For a few seconds George Burton indulged in some horrible imprecations. In the same breath he protested his absolute innocence, and denounced the "pal" who had betrayed him. Mr. Davidson cut him short, as he fastened the handcuffs on his wrist. "Stow it, old man! Be a sport. It's a fair cop, isn't it? You knew the risk you ran when you went into this business." Mr. Burton subsided. "Yes, it's a fair cop," he growled. "I don't blame you, you are only doing your duty. I've no grudge against you. But by Heaven, when I come out, I'll do for that swine who has given me away, if I have to swing for it." Pomfret had risen from his seat on the chesterfield at the dramatic entrance of the two strangers. Norah had risen also. In the few seconds that elapsed between their entrance and the clapping of the handcuffs on Burton, she stretched out appealing arms to him, and cried out in a voice of despair: