Now was the time for Robbie to speak, for his mother to speak, and say, “That is the man!” But Mrs Ogilvy was absorbed tearing in vain at the handcuffs, repeating unconsciously her exclamation, “My son, my son!” And he stood looking down upon her and her vain struggle, and upon his own imprisoned hands. I doubt whether she knew what was passing, or was conscious of anything but of one thing--which was Robbie in those disgraceful bonds. But he in his dull soul, forced into enlightenment by the catastrophe, was very conscious of everything, and especially that he was betrayed--that he himself was being left to bear the brunt, and that his friend in his character was stealing away. Janet had been kept back, partly by fright and astonishment, partly by the police and Andrew, the last of whom had a fast hold upon her gown, and bade her under his breath to “Keep out o’t--keep out o’t; we can do nothing:” but this restraint she could no longer bear. Her desire to be in the midst of everything, to be by her mistress’s side, to have her share of what was going on, would have been enough for her, even if she felt, as Andrew did, that she could do no good. But Janet was of no such opinion. Was she not appealed to, as one whose testimony would put all right? She pushed her way from among the men, pulling her cotton gown, which tore audibly, out of Andrew’s hand. “Sir, here am I: let me speak,” she said. “This is Mr Robert Ogilvy, that I’ve known since ever he was born. He came home the 15th of June, the same day many weary years before as he ran away. The other gentleman is Mr Lewis, his friend, that followed him here about a month ago at the most, a real fine good-hearted gentleman, too, if maybe he has been a little wild. Our gentleman is just as he was when he came out of the deserts and wildernesses. We’re not a family that cares a great deal for appearances. But Mr Lewis, he’s of another way of thinking, and we’ve had a great laughing all day at his shaving off of his beard.” “That’s what I told you!” said Mrs Ainslie, in her excitement pulling the inspector’s arm. “I told you so! What’s a beard? it is as easy to take off as a bonnet. And he would have got clean off--look at him, look at him!--if it hadn’t been for me.” “Look after that man, you fellows there,” said the inspector’s deep voice. “Don’t let him get away. Secure them both.”