her sat the man in drab, swinging his hat between his knees and
looking exactly as if he had just been awakened from a nap. The man
walked to the door, locked it, and then resumed his seat.

'Now, my lad,' he said, 'attend to me. My name is Downy. I am a
detective, and I have found you out.'

The admission was not a wise one; it blanched Dick's lips, but it closed
them like a spring-trap.

'I have found you out,' continued the detective. 'He has been arrested.'
The detective emphasised the 'he,' and watched the effect. Dick stood
before him, white and silent, his heart beating with quick blows, and his
blood humming in his ears, 'Who? Who? Who?'

'The man who went down with you has been arrested, my lad, and now you
must tell me the whole truth to save yourself. He says you hammered Harry
Hardy on the head with an iron bar, and if you do not clear yourself I
must take you to gaol.'

Dick answered nothing; his eyes never moved from the green bee on the
wall even to glance at his mother sobbing in the corner.

'Come, come, come!' cried Downy impatiently, 'it's no good your denying
that you were in the mine on Sunday night. You came home covered with
slurry, marked with blood, and very frightened. Your mother admits that,
and we have found your footprints in the clay of the Silver Stream drives
at both levels. Besides, the man says you were there. Now, tell me this,
and I will let you go free: who has the key of the grating over the mouth
of the old Red Hand?'

'Oh! Dickie, my boy, my poor boy--why don't you answer?' sobbed Mrs.
Haddon.

The detective tried again, threatened, pleaded, and cajoled, and Mrs.
Haddon used all her motherly artifices; but not one word came from the
boy's locked lips. Dick was possessed by a vivid hallucination; he seemed
to be standing in the centre of a whirlwind. Downy and his mother were
dim figures beyond, seen through the dust; and like shreds of paper
whirled in the vortex, visions of Miss Chris's face, netted in fair hair,
passed swiftly before his eyes, and the expression on each face was
beseeching and sorrowful. Nothing could have dragged the truth from him
at that moment.

Downy stood up and hung over Dick, scratching his head in a despairing
way.

I'm sorry, ma'am,' he said, 'but I'll have to take him.'

'He's shieldin' some villain,' moaned Mrs. Haddon.

The detective took the widow aside and whispered with her for a few
minutes, with the result that she dried her ey