r and father are to be arrested, whether or no;
but if you will do as this commands, they will be arrested without
bloodshed and without shame to one you know.

Her face while she read these lines, was a study, but I dared not soften
toward it. Dropping the paper from her hand, she gave me one inquiring
look. But I pointed determinedly to the words lying upward on the floor,
and would listen to no appeal. My resolve had its effect. Bowing her
head with a sorrowful gesture, she laid her hand on her heart, looked up
and glided from the room. I took up that paper and tore it into bits.

And now for the first time since I had been in the house, I closed the
door of my room. I had a part to perform that rendered the dropping of
my disguise indispensable. The old French artist had finished his work,
and henceforth must merge into Q. the detective. Shortly before two
o'clock my assistants began to arrive. First, Mr. Gryce appeared on the
scene and was stowed away in a large room on the other side of mine.
Next, two of the most agile, as well as muscular men in the force who,
thanks to having taken off their shoes in the lower hall, gained the
same refuge without awakening the suspicions of those we were anxious to
surprise. Lastly, the landlady who went into the closet to which I had
bidden Mrs. Blake retire after leaving in my room the articles I had
mentioned.

All was now ready and waiting for the departure of the youngest
Schoenmaker. Would he disappoint us and remain at home that day? Had any
suspicions been awakened in the stolid breasts of these men, that would
serve to make them more watchful than usual against running unnecessary
risks? No; at or near the time for the clock to strike two, their door
opened and the tread of a lumbering foot was heard in the hall. On it
came, passing my room with a rude stamping that gradually grew less
distinct as the hardy rough went down the corridor, brushing the wall
behind which Mr. Gryce and his men lay concealed with his thick cane,
and even stopping to light his pipe in front of the small apartment
where cowered our good landlady with her eternal basket of mending in
her lap.

At length all was quiet, and throwing open my door, I withdrew into
a small closet connected with my room, to wait with indescribable
impatience, the appearance of Mrs. Blake. She came in a very few
minutes, remained for an instant, and departed, leaving behind her as
I had requested, the skir