the square--and
his daughter's just gone up to Mr. Lepel. I know him by sight perfectly.
If you want him to be arrested, ma'am, you could get it done now
easily."

"What's that?" said old Miss Vane, stepping back with her hand to her
ear. "Why are you looking so pale, Flossy? What's all this about?"

Flossy looked at her husband and then looked at Sabina. She would have
given anything to stop Sabina's tongue. For the General had never yet
been made aware of one half of her manoeuvres, and she did not think
that he even knew that Westwood was alive. The whole thing would
probably excite him terribly; and there was a certain unsigned document
in the General's bureau at home about which Flossy was particularly
anxious. She had not wanted him to hear too much about Westwood's fate.

But there was no help for it now. He came forward with his sister,
wanting to know what all the disturbance was about, and questioning
first one and then another in turn. Sabina was not voluble; but, acting
on a hint from Mrs. Vane, she did not at once say how she came to
recognise the man. The General flew into a rage, as Flossy had expected
him to do, and wanted to go out and lay hands himself on his brother's
murderer. With great difficulty his wife and sister persuaded him to
listen to reason. The footman was despatched for the police, and Jenkins
was deputed to accost the man and bring him to the house. In this last
piece of business Flossy took the lead. She had a notion that Jenkins
was in Cynthia's confidence, and would not do what was required of him
if he knew its purpose; and for that reason she coolly gave him a
message from Hubert and Cynthia. Neither the General nor Miss Vane heard
it, or perhaps they would not have allowed it to be sent; but it
certainly effected all that they desired. Quietly and unsuspiciously
Westwood came stepping across the square in Jenkins' wake; and just as
quietly was taken up the stairs and shown into a little sitting-room,
where it had been decreed that he should be delayed until the police
could arrive.

But Westwood was not altogether at his ease. He was surprised to find
that neither Cynthia nor Lepel were there to meet him--surprised to find
himself left alone in a bare little room for five or ten minutes at the
very least. At last he tried the door. It was locked. And then the truth
flashed across his mind--he had been recognised--he had been entrapped.
Perhaps even Cynthia and Hubert Lepel wer