he would attend to the business of the day, and then, with a few words of grateful recognition to Mrs. Carruthers, bade all the ladies good-bye.  “Hasten back,” they all said, and the kind hostess added:  “We will think long till we see you again.”  Walking back into the kitchen, he bestowed a trifle in his most gracious manner, on Tryphena and Tryphosa, and then went forth to look for Marjorie.  As he kissed her an affectionate farewell in the garden, the little girl intuitively guessed his absence to be no common one, and begged her Eugene to stay, with tears in her eyes.  But he was obdurate with her and all the little Carruthers, on whom he showered quarters to buy candy at the post office.  Maguffin was there with the horse, and, near the gate, was Miss Carmichael with that ineffable ass Lamb.  Looking at the latter as if he would dearly love to kick him, he raised his hat to his companion, and extended his hand with the simple words “Good-bye.”  Miss Carmichael did not offer hers in return; she said:  “It is hardly worth while being so formal over an absence of a few hours.”  Coristine turned as if a serpent had bitten him, slipped some money into Maguffin’s hand, as that worthy held open the gate for him, and vaulted on his horse, nor did he turn to look round so long as the eyes of Bridesdale were on his retreating figure.

The lawyer rode hard, for he was excited.  He went by Talfourd’s house like a flash, and away through the woods he had traversed on Nash’s beast that last pleasant Sunday morning.  At the Beaver River he watered his horse, and exchanged a word with Pierre and Batiste bidding the former look out that no attempt at rescuing the prisoner should be made in that quarter.  Away he went, with madame’s eyes watching him from afar, up the ascent, and along the road to where the Hills dwelt at the foot of the Blue Mountains.  He doffed his hat to the old lady as he passed, then breasted the mountain side.  For a moment, he stood on the summit to take in the view once more, then clattered down the other side, and away full pelt for the town.  Soon he entered Collingwood, and sought the police headquarters without delay.  Where was Mr. Bangs?  He was told, to his great delight, that the detective was in town, and would report at four o’clock.  It was now half-past three.  Putting up his horse at the hotel, the lawyer partook of a hasty meal at a restaurant, and returned in time to meet Bangs on the very threshold.  “Whet ere you doing here, Lawyer Coristine?” he asked.

“You will never guess, Mr. Bangs.”

“Any more trebble et Bridesdele?”

“No, but I’ll tell you; we’ve caught Rawdon.”

“Why, the men’s dead, berned to a cinder, you know.”

“No, he is not; that was some other man.”

“Ere you shore, Mr. Coristine?”

“Perfectly.  Mr. Terry and Timotheus are bringing him here now.”

“Whet, only the two of them, and kemming pest the Beaver too?”