great harm
would befall me, for all the Scotch merchants would make common
cause with me, and, although we have no political power, we have a
good deal of influence one way or another, and Augustus, at this
time, would not care to make fresh enemies. However, lad, I will
not further dispute your decision. Were I quite alone, I would not
let you leave me, so long as you stop in this city, without taking
great offence; but, with a wife and two children, a man is more
timid than if he had but himself to think of."

Charlie therefore moved into the lodging, but every day he went for
three or four hours to the shop, where he kept up his assumed
character by aiding to keep the ledgers, and in learning from the
Polish assistants the value of the various goods in the shop.

One evening, he was returning after supper to his lodging, when
Stanislas met him.

"I observed three or four evil-looking rascals casting glances at
the house today, and there are several rough-looking fellows
hanging about the house this evening. I do not know if it means
anything, but I thought I would let you know."

"I think it must be only your fancy, Stanislas. I might be arrested
by the troops, were I denounced, but I apprehend no danger from men
of the class you speak of. However, if we should be interfered
with, I fancy we could deal with several rascals of that sort."

At the corner of his street, three or four men were standing. One
of them moved, as he passed, and pushed rudely against him, sending
his hat into the gutter. Then, as his face was exposed, the fellow
exclaimed:

"It is he, death to the Swedish spy!"

They were the last words he uttered. Charlie's sword flew from its
scabbard, and, with a rapid pass, he ran the man through the body.
The others drew instantly, and fell upon Charlie with fury, keeping
up the shout of, "Death to the Swedish spy!" It was evidently a
signal--for men darted out of doorways, and came running down the
street, repeating the cry.

"Go, Stanislas!" Charlie shouted, as he defended himself against a
dozen assailants. "Tell Ramsay what has happened; you can do no
good here."

A moment later, he received a tremendous blow on the back of the
head, from an iron-bound cudgel, and fell senseless to the ground.

Chapter 10: In Evil Plight.

When Charlie recovered his senses, he found himself lying bound in
a room lighted by a dim lamp, which sufficed only to show that the
beams were blackened by s