hern scorpions."

"We're constables, Mr. PENDRAGON," was the reply, "and it is our duty to
take you back to the main road, where a couple of your friends are
waiting for you."

Staring from one to the other in speechless wonder at what this fresh
outrage upon the down-trodden South could mean, MONTGOMERY allowed them
to replace his Indian club in his hand, and conduct him back to the
public road; where, to his increased bewilderment, he found Gospeler
SIMPSON and the Ritualistic organist.

"What is the matter, gentlemen?" he asked, in great agitation: "must I
take the oath of Loyalty; or am I required by Yankee philanthropy to
marry a negress?"

At the sound of his voice, Mr. BUMSTEAD left the shoulder of Mr.
SIMPSON, upon which he had been leaning with great weight, and, coming
forward in three long skips, deliberately wound his right hand in the
speaker's neck-tie.

"Where are those nephews--where's that umbrella?" demanded the organist,
with considerable ferocity.

"Nephews!--umbrella!" gasped the other.

"The EDWINS--bone handle," explained Mr. BUMSTEAD, lurching towards his
captive.

"Mr. MONTGOMERY," interposed the Gospeler, sadly, Mr. DROOD went out
with you last night, late, from his estimable uncle's lodgings, and has
not been seen since. Where is he?"

"He went back into the house again, sir, after I had walked him up and
down the road a few times."

"Well, then, where's that umbrella?" roared the organist, who seemed
quite beside himself with grief and excitement.

"Mr. BUMSTEAD, pray be more calm," implored the Reverend OCTAVIUS.

"Mr. MONTGOMERY, this agitated gentleman's nephew has been mysteriously
missing ever since he went out with you at midnight: also an alpaca
umbrella."

"Upon my honor, I know nothing of either," ejaculated the unhappy
Southerner.

Mr. BUMSTEAD, still holding him by the neck-tie, cast a fiery and
unsettled glance around at nothing in particular; then ground his teeth
audibly, and scowled.

"My boy's missing!" he said, hissingly.--"Y'understand?--he's
missing.--I must insist upon searching the prisoner."

In the presence of Gospeler and constables, and loftily regardless alike
of their startled wonder and the young man's protests, the maddened
uncle of the lost DROOD deliberately examined all the captive's pockets
in succession. In one of them was a penknife, which, after thoughtfully
trying it upon his pink nails, he abstractedly placed in his own pocket.
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