manner—we were to open the door, rush in, and secure the criminal!
He was gone for some minutes. Charles and I waited outside in breathless expectation. Then Medhurst sneezed. We flung the door open at once, and burst in upon the creature.
Medhurst rose as we did so. He pointed with his finger. 'This is Colonel Clay!' he said; 'keep him well in charge while I go down to the door for the police to arrest him!'
A gentlemanly man, about middle height, with a grizzled beard and a well-assumed military aspect, rose at the same moment. The envelope in which Charles had placed the notes lay on the table before him. He clutched it nervously. 'I am at a loss, gentlemen,' he said, in an excited voice, 'to account for this interruption.' He spoke with a tremor, yet with all the politeness to which we were accustomed in the little curate and the Honourable David.
'No nonsense!' Charles exclaimed, in his authoritative way. 'We know who you are. We have found you out this time. You are Colonel Clay. If you attempt to resist—take care—I will handcuff you!'
The military gentleman gave a start. 'Yes, I am Colonel Clay,' he answered. 'On what charge do you arrest me?'
Charles was bursting with wrath. The fellow's coolness seemed never to desert him. 'You are Colonel Clay!' he muttered. 'You have the un-
