re-married by the
rites of your own Church in England.'

'Are you quite sure our Scotch domicile is good enough in law?' Harold
asked, still doubtful.

'I can turn it up, if you wish. I have a legal handbook. Before Lord
Brougham's Act, no formalities were necessary. But the Act was passed to
prevent Gretna Green marriages. The usual phrase is that such a marriage
does not hold good unless one or other of the parties either has had his
or her usual residence in Scotland, or else has lived there for
twenty-one days immediately preceding the date of the marriage. If you
like, I will wait to consult the authorities.'

'No, thank you,' I cried. 'There is no time to lose. Marry us first, and
look it up afterwards. "One or other" will do, it seems. Mr. Tillington
is Scotch enough, I am sure; he has no address in Britain but
Gledcliffe: we will rest our claim upon that. Even if the marriage turns
out invalid, we only remain where we were. This is a preliminary
ceremony to prove good faith, and to bind us to one another. We can
satisfy the law, if need be, when we return to England.'

The minister called in his wife and servants, and explained to them
briefly. He exhorted us and prayed. We gave our solemn consent in legal
form before two witnesses. Then he pronounced us duly married. In a
quarter of an hour more, we had made declaration to that effect before
the sheriff, the witnesses accompanying us, and were formally affirmed
to be man and wife before the law of Great Britain. I asked if it would
hold in England as well.

'You couldn't be firmer married,' the sheriff said, with decision, 'by
the Archbishop of Canterbury in Westminster Abbey.'

Harold turned to the minister. 'Will you send for the police?' he said,
calmly. 'I wish to inform them that I am the man for whom they are
looking in the Ashurst will case.'

Our own cabman went to fetch them. It was a terrible moment. But Harold
sat in the sheriff's study and waited, as if nothing unusual were
happening. He talked freely but quietly. Never in my life had I felt so
proud of him.

At last the police came, much inflated with the dignity of so great a
capture, and took down our statement. 'Do you give yourself in charge on
a confession of forgery?' the superintendent asked, as Harold ended.

'Certainly not,' Harold answered. 'I have not committed forgery. But I
do not wish to skulk or hide myself. I understand a warrant is out
against me in London. I have come