nd he spoke humbly, apologetically. Even at that moment a
passing stranger could not have helped noticing the difference between
the men. The policemen were stolid, commonplace, the mere creatures of
formula; the young man whom they had come to apprehend was, to the most
casual observer, a man of mark. Neither of them could help feeling it.
Pale of face, clear-cut features, black, flashing eyes, square
forehead, a well-shaped head covered with black, glossy hair--tall,
erect, well-dressed--it might seem as though he were their master and
they his servants; and yet each realised that he was a prisoner,
apprehended for murder.

"Very well, Broglin," said Paul quietly. "I see you take this thing
seriously, and, of course, I do not wish to hinder you from doing your
duty. But, at least, I have the right to know what authority you have
for apprehending me?"

"I have a magistrate's warrant," replied Broglin, the sergeant.

"Yes; but they cannot have made out a warrant without some sufficient
reason for so doing. To be charged with murder is a serious affair!"

"I know it, sir," replied Broglin. He had forgotten the part he had
intended to play. He was altogether conquered by the stronger
personality with which he had come into contact.

"Well, what are the grounds for apprehending me, then?"

"First," said the policeman, after a moment's reflection, "Mr. Ned
Wilson was found dead this morning. This man here, Police-Constable
Ashworth, was on his beat, not far from Howden Clough, when he found
him lying face on the ground, the knife driven into his heart."

"Very sad, very terrible," said Paul. "But pray, what have I to do
with that?"

"Of course, he started to work," said the constable, "and before long
two men who are well known in Brunford, Abel Scott and James Thomas
Dixon, stated that they saw you the previous night. They heard what
took place between you; they saw Mr. Wilson knock you down with a heavy
stick--you can't deny that; there's the wound on your temple now--and
they heard you threaten to pay him out."

"Yes," said Paul, "but that's not enough on which to apprehend me."

"I have got the magistrate's warrant," said the policeman.

"Still, there must be something more. What is it?"

The policeman did not feel himself obliged to answer the question; but,
still yielding to Paul's stronger presence, went on humbly: "Well, sir,
of course the people at Howden Clough were knocked up at once, and