ry
step he took along with the valiant Christian.

The morning went by and noon had come, and still the boy read on, until
heavy footsteps on the stairs below startled them both, and sent a quick
flush into Reginald's cheeks.

It needed no divination to guess what it meant, and it was almost with a
sigh of relief that he saw the door open and a policeman enter.

He rose to his feet and drew himself up as the man approached.

"Is your name Cruden Reginald?" said the officer.

"No; it's Reginald Cruden."

"You call yourself Cruden Reginald?"

"I have done so; yes."

"Then I must trouble you to come along with me, young gentleman."

"Very well," said Reginald, quietly. "What am I charged with?"

"Conspiracy to defraud, that's what's on the warrant. Are you ready
now?"

"Yes, quite ready. Where are you going to take me?"

"Well, we shall have to look in at the station on our way, and then go
on to the police-court. Won't take long. Bound to remand you, you
know, for a week or something like that, and then you'll get committed,
and the assizes are on directly after the new year, so three weeks from
now will see it all over."

The man talked in a pleasant, civil way, in a tone as if he quite
supposed Reginald might be pleased to hear the programme arranged on his
behalf.

"We'd better go," said Reginald, moving towards the door.

His face was very white and determined. But there was a tell-tale
quiver in his tightly-pressed lips which told that he needed all his
courage to help him through the ordeal before him. Till this moment the
thought of having to walk through Liverpool in custody had not entered
into his calculations, and he recoiled from it with a shiver.

"I needn't trouble you with these," said the policeman, taking a pair of
handcuffs from his pocket; "not yet, anyhow."

"Oh no. I'll come quite quietly."

"All right. I've my mate below. You can walk between. Hulloa!"

This last exclamation was addressed to Master Love, who, having
witnessed thus much of the interview in a state of stupefied
bewilderment, now recovered his presence of mind sufficiently to make a
furious dash at the burly policeman.

"Do you hear? Let him be; let my governor go. He ain't done nothink to
you or nobody. It's me, I tell yer. I've murdered dozens, do you 'ear?
and robbed the till, and set the Manshing 'Ouse o' fire, do you 'ear?
You let 'im go. It's me done it!"

And he accompanied the protest w