“Yes; but we think there is a slight inaccuracy in it.  Have you any objection to let us refer to your ledger?”

“Not the least in the world.  Screw, go down into my private laboratory, open the table-drawer nearest the window, and bring up a locked book, with a parchment cover, which you will find in it.”

As Screw obeyed I saw a look pass between him and the two strangers which made me begin to feel a little uneasy.  I thought the doctor noticed it too; but he preserved his countenance, as usual, in a state of the most unruffled composure.

“What a time that fellow is gone!” he exclaimed gayly.  “Perhaps I had better go and get the book myself.”

The two strangers had been gradually lessening the distance between the doctor and themselves, ever since Screw had left the room.  The last words were barely out of his mouth, before they both sprang upon him, and pinioned his arms with their hands.

“Steady, my fine fellow,” said Mr. Manasseh’s head agent.  “It’s no go.  We are Bow Street runners, and we’ve got you for coining.”

“Not a doubt of it,” said the doctor, with the most superb coolness.  “You needn’t hold me.  I’m not fool enough to resist when I’m fairly caught.”

“Wait till we’ve searched you; and then we’ll talk about that,” said the runner.*

The doctor submitted to the searching with the patience of a martyr.  No offensive weapon being found in his pockets, they allowed him to sit down unmolested in the nearest chair.

“Screw, I suppose?” said the doctor, looking inquiringly at the officers.

“Exactly,” said the principal man of the two.  “We have been secretly corresponding with him for weeks past.  We have nabbed the man who went out with him, and got him safe at Barkingham.  Don’t expect Screw back with the ledger.  As soon as he has made sure that the rest of you are in the house, he is to fetch another man or two of our Bow Street lot, who are waiting outside till they hear from us.  We only want an old man and a young one, and a third pal of yours who is a gentleman born, to make a regular clearance in the house.  When we have once got you all, it will be the prettiest capture that’s ever been made since I was in the force.”

What the doctor answered to this I cannot say.  Just as the officer had done speaking, I heard footsteps approaching the room in which I was listening.  Was Screw looking for me?  I instantly closed the peephole and got behind the door.  It opened back upon me, and, sure enough, Screw entered cautiously.

An empty old wardrobe stood opposite the door.  Evidently suspecting that I might have taken the alarm and concealed myself inside it, he approached it on tiptoe.  On tiptoe also I followed him; and, just as his hands were on the wardrobe door, my hands were on his throat.  He was a little man, and no match for me.  I easily and gently laid him on his back, in a voiceless and half-suffocated state—­throwing myself right over him, to keep his legs quiet.  When I saw his face getting black, and his small eyes growing largely globular, I let go with one hand, crammed my empty plaster of Paris bag, which lay close by, into his mouth, tied it fast, secured his hands and feet, and then left him perfectly harmless, while I took counsel with myself how best to secure my own safety.