e for the object of
your warrant to escape."

The dignity and commanding stature of Duff Salter had their effect.

Calvin Van de Lear and Duff Salter entered the silent house, lighted the
gas, and walked from room to room, finally entering the apartment of
Duff Salter himself.

There sat Mike, the serving-man, in his red hair, uneven eyebrows,
crutch, and wooden leg, as quietly arranging the models of vessels and
steamers as if he had not anticipated a midnight call nor ceased his
labor since Duff Salter had gone out.

"Damnation!" exclaimed Calvin Van de Lear, pale with exertion and rage,
"are you here? I thought you were at Treaty Island."

"Misther Salter," said the Irishman, "I returned, do you see, because I
forgot something and wanthed a drop of your brandy, sur."

Duff Salter walked up to the speaker and seized him by the lapels of his
coat, and placing the other hand upon his head, tore off the entire
red-haired scalp which covered him.

"Andrew Zane," said Duff Salter in a low voice, "your disguise is
detected. Yield yourself like a man to your father's executor. You are
my prisoner!"

CHAPTER IX.

IN COURT.

Agnes Wilt awoke and said her prayers, unconscious of any event of the
night. At the breakfast-table she met Duff Salter, who took both her
hands in his.

"Agnes," said Duff Salter--"let me call you so hereafter--did you hear
the bell toll last night?"

"No," she replied with agitation. "For what, Mr. Salter?"

"The good priest of Kensington is dying."

"Beloved friend!" she said, as the tears came to her eyes. "And must he
die uncertain of my blame or innocence? Yet he will learn it in that
wiser world!"

"Agnes, I require perfect submission from you for this day. Will you
give it in all things?"

She looked at him a moment in earnest reflection, and said finally:

"Yes, unless my conscience says 'no.'"

"Nothing will be asked of you that you cannot rightfully do. Decision is
what is needed now, and I will bring you through triumphantly if you
will obey me."

"I will."

"At eleven o'clock we must go to the magistrate's office. I will walk
there with you."

"Am I to be arrested?" she asked, hesitating.

"If you go with me it will not be an arrest."

"Mr. Salter," she cried, in a burst of anguish, "I am not fit to be seen
upon the streets of Kensington."

He took her in his arms like a daughter.

"Yes, yes, poor girl! The mother of God braved no less. You can bear