a
letter was discovered from you to young Master Edward, asking him to
meet you."

"Still, that's not enough to apprehend me," said Paul.

"Maybe not," replied the constable. "But the knife which was buried in
Mr. Ned Wilson's heart is known to be yours. It was seen on the desk
in your office only yesterday."

Paul's lips became pale as these words were spoken. He knew it was
damning evidence. He remembered the knife; he had reason to. "Very
well," he said. "I will go with you; but, first of all, let me ring
for a servant. No, I do not wish to move away from you farther than
the bell here." He pressed a button as he spoke, and the servant, who
had been listening, eagerly rushed to him.

"Mary," said Paul, "where's my mother?"

"I don't know," replied the girl. "I don't think she's up yet."

"Perhaps she's not well," said Paul. "Tell her for me that I have to
go down into the town with these men, on a matter of business, but that
she need be under no apprehension about me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," replied the girl.

She had heard all that had been said. She knew that her young master
was accused of murder, and in a way she believed it, but she could not
treat him disrespectfully. There was something in his presence that
made it impossible.

"The cab's outside," said Broglin. "I'd better put on the handcuffs, I
suppose?"

Paul lifted his eyebrows. For the first time he fully realised what
was taking place. All the ghastly disgrace, the terrible notoriety,
became real to him. He knew that in a few minutes the whole town would
be agog with excitement. His most intimate affairs would be discussed
by every gossip in Brunford. Still, it could not be helped. The thing
had to be gone through, and he must go through with it. But he must be
careful not to betray himself or anyone else.

"There is no need of the handcuffs, Broglin," he said. "Still, do your
duty."

"I am sorry," said the man. "But, you see, it's a serious affair,
and--and----"

"Never mind," interrupted Paul, "put them on!"

He stepped into the cab, and the three burly forms of the policemen
also went with him. The word was given to the driver, and a few
minutes later he felt himself drawn towards the Town Hall.

"Shall I pull down the blinds, Mr. Stepaside?" said Broglin.

For a moment he was tempted to say "Yes," but only for a moment. It
was no use. What would be the good of blinds? Every one would know.