“Your young friend does not seem much to like the idea of lodging here,” said Solomon, with a brutal laugh.

“That is fortunate,” answered the detective, dryly, “since he will not have to do so.  In my profession, Mr. Coe, we hold it a mean trick to kick a man when he is down.—­This way, Sir, if you please.”  For, at the sound of Solomon’s voice, Richard was up and out in a moment.  “It is merely a form that you have to go through before we go before the beak.”

“A form?” asked Richard, hoarsely; “what form?”

“We shall have to search you, Sir; that’s all.”

“That’s all,” echoed Solomon, with a grin.

Richard’s face changed from white to red, from red to white, by turns.

“Mr. Coe will stay where he is,” said Dodge, peremptorily, as he led the way into a little room that opened from the gate-keeper’s parlor.

“I thank you for that, Mr. Dodge,” said Richard, gratefully.

“Not at all, Sir.  If you have any thing of a compromising nature about you—­revolvers or such like—­that’s my business and the beak’s, not his.—­Officer do your duty.”

Richard was searched accordingly.  He had no revolver; but what astonished himself more than it did the searcher was that a cigar was found loose in his breast-pocket.

“Why, this must be the one that I gave to you this morning, Mr. Dodge.”

“Just so, Sir.  I put it back again as we came along.  You know my motto.  When you come to be your own master again—­which I hope’ll be soon—­then I’ll smoke it with you with pleasure; they’ll keep it for you very careful, you may depend upon it, and baccar is a thing as don’t spoil.  That’s a pretty bit of jewelry now—­that is.”  Mr. Dodge’s remark referred to a gold locket, with the word “Harry” outside it, written in diamonds; and within a portrait of her, which he had executed himself.  “That’s a token of some favorite brother, I dare say?”

“Yes,” said Richard.  “Might I keep that, if you please; or, at all events, might I ask that it should not be shown to the man in yonder room?  It’s my own, Mr. Dodge,” added he, earnestly, “upon my word and honor.”

“No doubt, Sir; no doubt.  There’s no charge against you except as to these notes.  I must put it down on the list, because that’s the law; but you can keep it, and welcome, so far as I am concerned; though I am afraid the Cross Key folks will not be so very easy with you.”

“The Cross Key folks?”

“Well, Mr. Yorke, it’s no use to hide from you that you will be sent to Cross Key; that’s the nearest jail to Gethin, I believe.  I am afraid the beak will be for committing you; the sum is so large, and the case so clear, that I doubt whether he’ll entertain the question of bail.  You have no friends in Plymouth, either, you told me.”

“None,” said Richard, sadly; “unless,” he added, in a whisper, “I can count you as one.”