any one else."

"Very well; we will question you no further upon that point now," said
the detective; "but it does not take a very wise head to suspect who was
your accomplice, and I imagine it will not take a great deal of hunting,
either, to find him," and Mr. Rider resolved to make a bee line for the
Fall River boat the moment he could get through with his business there.
"And now, gentlemen," he resumed, turning to the lawyers and Ray, "I
think we'll close this examination here, and I'll take my prisoner into
camp."

A cry of horror burst from Mrs. Montague's blanched lips at this remark.

"You cannot mean it--you will not dare to take me to a vile jail," she
exclaimed, in tones of mingled fear and anger.

"Jails were made for thieves, swindlers, and abductors," was the laconic
response.

The woman sprang to her feet again, and shot a withering glance at him.

"I go to a common prison? never!" she said, fiercely, and with all the
haughtiness of which she was capable.

"The fact of your having figured as a leader in high life, madame, does
not exempt you from the penalty of the law, since you have already
declared yourself guilty of the crimes I have named," coolly rejoined
the detective.

"Oh, I cannot--I cannot," moaned the wretched woman, wringing her hands
in abject distress. Then her glance fell upon Mona, who had quietly
seated herself a little in the background, after the detective had
relieved her of the clothing which she had brought into the room.

"You will not let them send me to prison--you will not let them bring me
to trial and sentence me to such degradation," she moaned, imploringly.

Mr. Rider regarded her with amazement and supreme contempt at this
servile appeal, for so it seemed to him.

"How can you expect that Miss Richards will succor you after your
heartless and wicked treatment of her?" he demanded more sharply than
he had yet spoken to her.

"Because, Mr. Rider," Mona gently interposed, "she bears a name she knows
I am anxious to save from all taint or reproach; because she was the
wife, and I the only child, of Walter Richmond Montague Dinsmore."

The detective gave vent to a long, low whistle of surprise.

"Zounds! can that be possible?" he cried, as he turned his wondering
glance upon the lawyers.

"Yes," said Mr. Corbin, "it is the truth, and, of course, it is time that
it should be revealed. I have known that Mrs. Richmond Montague and Mrs.
Walter Dinsmore were one a