The regular march of disciplined men coming nearer and nearer, but heard by none within that room, as Crellock, with a coarse laugh, bent forward, and whispered in his companion's ear: "Why, man, are you going to submit to this?" "No!" roared Hallam, as if his gang-companion's words had broken a spell. "No! The woman's mad! Julia, you are my child. Come here!" Julia met the eyes that were fixed fiercely upon her, and stepped forward. Bayle tried to arrest her, but she raised her hand to keep him back, and then placed it on her father's arm, trembling and looking white. Then she reached up, and kissed him solemnly upon the cheek. "There, gentlemen," he cried triumphantly. "You see. Now, wife--my wife, come to your convict servant--come--home." He passed his arm round Julia's waist, and signed to Crellock to come forward, but his child glided from his grasp. "Good-bye--father--good-bye--for ever." He made a snatch at her hand; but she had gone, and was clinging to Bayle. Hallam uttered a fierce oath, and then listened: stopped short with his head wrenched round to gaze at the door. For at that moment the tramp of feet reached the entrance, and a voice rang out: "Halt!" There was the rattle of muskets on the path, and as, ghastly of face, and with starting eyes, Robert Hallam saw in imagination the interior of the prison, the grim convict dress, the chains, and the lash, the door was thrown open, and Captain Otway entered, followed by a sergeant and a file of the convict guard, a squad remaining outside, drawn up before the house. Otway glanced round, his brow furrowed, and his lips tightened, as his eyes fell on Mrs Hallam and her child. It was but a momentary emotion. Then the stern military precision asserted itself, and he said quickly: "Robert Hallam, number 874, assigned servant, I arrest you for breaking the terms of your pass. Sergeant, remove this man." Two men stepped to Hallam's side on the instant. "Curse you," he yelled, as he started forward to reach his wife, but a strong hand on either arm stayed him. "This is your work." She shook her head slowly, and Julia darted to her side, for the firmness that had sustained her so far was failing fast. "No," she said slowly; "it is no work of mine." "Then I have to thank my dear friend the Baronet here," he cried with a vindictive look at Sir Gordon. "No, Hallam. I have known for months past that you have been living in wild excess on the money you stole from me, but I spared you for others' sake." "Oh, I see, then," cried Hallam, turning to Bayle; "it was you--you beggarly professor of--" "Stay your reproaches," cried Bayle sternly. "I could not have taken steps against you had I wished." "If it'll make it easier for Mr Hallam to know who gave information again him," said a voice at the door, "it was me." "Tom Porter!" cried Sir Gordon. "Ay, ay, sir."