“Yes, you are quite correct,” interrupted I; “that is my name. May I beg to know, in return, for what purpose you make the inquiry?” “Thomas Burke, sir?” continued he, inattentive to my observation, and apparently about to write the name on the paper before him. I nodded, and he wrote down the words. “That saves a deal of trouble to all of us, sir,” said he, as he finished writing. “This is a warrant for your arrest; but the major is quite satisfied if you can give bail for your appearance.” “Arrest!” repeated I; “on what charge am I arrested?” “You'll hear in the morning, I suppose,” said he, quietly. “What shall we say about the bail? Have you any acquaintance or friend in town?” “Neither; I am a perfect stranger here. But if you are authorized to arrest me, I here surrender myself at once.” By this time, several persons of the coffee-room had approached the table, and among the rest the gentleman who so politely made way for me in the crowd to reach the door. “What is it, Roche?” said he, addressing the man at the table; “a warrant?” “Yes, sir; for this gentleman here. But we can take bail, if he has it.” “I have told you already that I am a stranger, and know no one here.” The gentleman threw his eyes over the warrant, and then looking me steadily in the face, muttered in a whisper to the officer, “Why, he must have been a boy, a mere child, at the time.” “Very true, sir; but the major says it must be done. Maybe you'd bail him yourself.” These words were added in a tone of half irony, as the fellow gave a sly look beneath his eyelashes. “I tell you, again,” said I, impatient at the whole scene, “I am quite ready to accompany you.” “Is this your name, sir?” said the strange gentleman, addressing me, as he pointed to the warrant. “Yes,” interposed the officer, “there's no doubt about that; he gave it himself.” “Come, come, then, Roche,” said he, cajolingly; “these are not times for undue strictness. Let the gentleman remain where he is to-night, and to-morrow he will attend you. You can remain here, if you like, with him.” “If you say so, I suppose we may do it,” replied the officer, as he folded up the paper, and arose from the table. “Yes, yes; that's the proper course. And now,” said he, addressing me, “will you permit me to join you while I finish this bottle of claret?” I could have no objection to so pleasant a proposal; and thus, for the time at least, ended this disagreeable affair. CHAPTER XXXV. AN UNFORSEEN EVIL “I perceive, sir,” said the stranger, seating himself at my table, “they are desirous to restore an antiquated custom in regard to you. I thought the day of indemnities was past and gone forever.” “I am ignorant to what you allude.”