whitepowder which all my resources failed to remove; and the task ofregaining the street unobserved and unsuspected remained to beaccomplished.
I listened attentively. There was not a sound to be heard. All wassilent and gloomy, save where the light from a street-lamp shone througha distant window in another room, making the outline of the door dimlyvisible.
Cautiously and carefully I essayed to reach the pavement by the windowwhich had afforded me an entrance.
Suddenly I was startled by my wrists being seized from the outside, thehoarding removed in a trice, and ere an exclamation could escape me, Ifound myself in the grasp of a couple of stalwart constables.
"What are you doing here--eh?" one asked, roughly, turning theinsufferable glare of his lantern into my eyes.
I tried to answer, but a dimness seemed to come over me, and the onlyrecollection that remains of what followed was of darting across a roadaccompanied by my two captors, one of whom held me on each side.
"`Being on unoccupied premises, supposed for an unlawful purpose--' eh?"suggested the man on my right.
"That's it," replied the other, who had first spoken to me.
Then I was dragged into a police-station.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
QUEER STRAITS.
"Well, constable, what's the charge?" asked the inspector on duty,turning on his stool and surveying me critically.
"Found him getting through the window of a house in Angel Court, DruryLane, sir. The place is unoccupied, and we arrested him in the act ofcoming out," replied the man nearest me.
"Stolen anything?"
"No, sir; we think not: we haven't searched the premises yet."
"Put him in the dock."
"This way," commanded the constable, and I followed him into a bare,unfurnished room, where I entered the prisoners' dock, and leaned uponthe steel rail, silent in perplexity.
In a few moments the inspector came in and seated himself at the desk,saying,--
"Now then, look alive; charge him, and get on your beat again."
"Stand up straight, I want to take your measure," the constable said,and as I obeyed, he exclaimed, "Five-foot-nine."
"What's your name?" asked the officer, looking towards me.
I hesitated.
"Give us your right one, now; or it may go against you."
Why need I? Was it not a disgrace to be arrested? For Vera's sake Ifelt I must keep the matter secret.
"Harold Dobson," I replied, uttering the first name that occurred to me.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine." The inspector filled in the charge-sheet.
"Where do you live?"
Again I hesitated.
"No use hatching up any lies! Where do you live?"
"I refuse to say."
"Hum!" muttered the officer as if to himself. "It's only guilty personswho refuse their address; but if you won't answer, then there's an endof it. What are you?"
"Nothing."
"Gentleman at large, I suppose," said he, smiling incredulously as hesurveyed my clothes.
"Very well; no occupation," and then there was a silence of someminutes, only broken by the hissing of the flaring gas-jet, and themonotonous scratching of the inspector's quill.
"Sign your names," he commanded, when he had finished; and the twoconstables who had arrested me appended their signatures.
"Now, prisoner," said the inspector, as he blotted the charge-sheet,"you are charged with breaking and entering the dwelling-house, Number4, Angel Court, Drury Lane, for the purpose of committing a felony. Imust caution you that any statement you make will be taken down and usedas evidence against you."
"I don't see how I can be suspected of a felony when the place isunoccupied," I replied.
"You must leave that point to be decided to-morrow by the magistrate. Aman don't break into a house for nothing."
"Two days ago a man died in that house, and I was searching for his bodyin order to give you information," I said.
"That can't be true, sir," interposed one of the men. "The house hasn'tbeen lived in for a year or more."
"Well, if a man died there a couple of days ago there would be surely besome furniture, or some traces of habitation. When he's in the cell, goand examine the premises thoroughly."
"Very well, sir," the man answered.
"Now," said the inspector, turning to me, "have you anything more tosay?"
"Nothing; I've told you the truth."
"Turn out your pockets. We'll take care of your valuables," he saidlaying stress on the last word, as if it were not likely my possessionswere worth much.
The constable lifted the bar allowing me to step from the dock, and Iwent to a small table and commenced placing the contents of my pocketsthereon. Some silver, my pocket-book, penknife, pencil-case, and otherarticles I produced, each of which were examined by the two men.
The pocket-book, one that Vera had given me, attracted the mostcuriosity, and one of them opened it and commenced reading my memoranda,also scrutinising the various papers and cards therein.
"Hulloa, what's this?" he suddenly exclaimed, holding a piece of papernearer his eyes and examining it carefully. The ejaculation caused theother constable to peer over his shoulder, while the inspector rose andwalked towards them.
It was then only that I recognised the horrifying reality. It was thefatal seal, the one given me by the strange man, now dead, that they haddiscovered? "Why, great Heavens!" cried the inspector, as he took thepaper from the man's hand, "don't you see? It's the seal that puzzledus so last year!"
"Good God? so it is!" ejaculated both the men almost simultaneously, alook of abject astonishment upon their faces.
The inspector lifted his eyes from the seal and glanced at me keenly.He had been thoroughly taken by surprise at the discovery, but did notlose his head.
"Warner," he said, hastily, addressing one of the men, "go round to thesuperintendent and ask him to come here at once."
"Right, sir!" and, swinging his cape around his shoulders, the mandeparted.
"Richards, remain here with the prisoner," he added, as he turned andleft the charge-room also.
A few moments later the sharp ring of the telegraph bell in the outeroffice broke upon my ear, followed by the whirr and click of theinstrument; and with a sinking heart I knew that information of mycapture was being flashed to Scotland Yard.
For myself I cared nothing. I had never told Vera of my connection withthat series of mysterious crimes that had startled the country, and wasonly thinking of the means by which I could still keep her in ignoranceof the facts.
I had given a fictitious name and refused my address; if I were firm andcareful not to commit myself I might still be able to keep my identity asecret.
What a fool I had been, thought I, not to have left the seal in thecash-box, as I first intended, and this reflection brought with itanother, more maddening, when I remembered that, although I was bearingthis oppression and mental torture for Vera's sake, nevertheless I hadfound a portion of a seal at Elveham, identical with that which hadproduced such a consternation among the police.
Again I was seized with that horrible apprehension that Vera wished torid herself of me, and the seal I found in my library was to have beenplaced on the next victim--myself!
Why should I not make a clean breast of the matter to the inspector?Vera had already proved herself base and treacherous. For her I hadsuffered enough in that Russian dungeon, at the horrors of which Iinvoluntarily shuddered, even then. Were I to give my right name thesuspicion could easily be removed, and I should be a free man. I waswavering. I own I felt almost inclined to do it. Then I reflected thatmy wife must know the secret of the seal, and that in the event of myrelease detectives would be busy. What if it were traced to her and shestood in the position I then was? No, I decided to conceal my identity,come what might, for I had not forgotten the promise I made her beforewe parted.
In a couple of weeks her explanation woul
d be forthcoming, and in themeantime the police might do their worst.
Presently the inspector returned, and I was taken to a small roomleading from the charge-room.
"How did this seal come into your possession?" the officer askedsharply.
"It was given to me."
"By whom?"
"By a man who is dead."
"What was his name?"
"I do not know."
"You don't know; or you won't tell me, which?"
"I have already answered."
"We shall want to know more than that," he said, ominously.
"Unsatisfactory as my answer may be it is nevertheless a