“Stop!” roared Dunham, in a thunderous voice of righteous anger.  “She is my wife.  And you are her cousin.  I know all about your plot to shut her up in an insane asylum and steal her fortune.  I have found you sooner than I expected, and I intend to see that the law takes its full course with you.”

Two policemen now arrived on the scene, with a number of eager bell-boys and porters in their wake, ready to take part in the excitement.

Richard had turned deadly white at the words, “She is my wife!” It was the death-knell of his hopes of securing the fortune for which he had not hesitated to sacrifice every particle of moral principle.  When he turned and saw impending retribution in the shape of the two stalwart representatives of the law, a look of cunning came into his face, and with one swift motion he turned to flee up the staircase close at hand.

“Not much you don’t,” said an enterprising bell-boy, flinging himself in the way and tripping up the scoundrel in his flight.

The policemen were upon him and had him handcuffed in an instant.  The Irishman now began to protest that he was but an innocent tool, hired to help discover the whereabouts of an escaped lunatic, as he supposed.  He was walked off to the patrol wagon without further ceremony.

It was all over in a few minutes.  The elevator carried off the detective, the policemen, and their two prisoners.  The door closed behind Dunham and his bride, and the curious guests who had peered out, alarmed by the uproar, saw nothing but a few bell-boys standing in the hall, describing to one another the scene as they had witnessed it.

“He stood here and I stood right there,” said one, “and the policeman, he come——­”

The guests could not find out just what had happened, but supposed there had been an attempted robbery, and retired behind locked doors to see that their jewels were safely hidden.

Dunham drew the trembling girl into his arms and tried to soothe her.  The tears rained down the white cheeks as her head lay upon his breast, and he kissed them away.

“Oh!” she sobbed, shuddering.  “If you had not come!  It was terrible, terrible!  I believe he would have killed me rather than have let me go again.”

Gradually his tender ministrations calmed her, but she turned troubled eyes to his face.

“You do not know yet that I am all I say.  You have nothing to prove it.  Of course, by and by, when I can get to my guardians, and with your help perhaps make them understand, you will know, but I don’t see how you can trust me till then.”

For answer he brought his hand up in front of her face and turned the flashing diamond—­her diamond—­so that its glory caught the single ray of setting sun that filtered into the hotel window.

“See, darling,” he said.  “It is your ring.  I have worn it ever since as an outward sign that I trusted you.”