Pale!  What was their gentle paleness compared with the frightfully livid one of Francis Levison?  His agitation was pitiable to witness, his face a terror to look upon; once or twice he gasped, as if in an agony; and then his eyes happened to fall on Otway Bethel, who stood near.  Shorn of his adornments—­which might not be thought adornments upon paper—­the following was the sentence that burst involuntarily from his lips,—­

“You hound!  It is you who have done this!”

“No! by—­” Whether Mr. Otway Bethel was about to swear by Jupiter or Juno never was decided, the sentence being cut ignominiously short at the above two words.  Another policeman, in the summary manner exercised towards Sir Francis, had clapped a pair of handcuffs upon him.

“Mr. Otway Bethel, I arrest you as an accomplice in the murder of George Hallijohn.”

You may be sure that the whole assembly was arrested, too—­figuratively—­and stood with eager gaze and open ears.  Colonel Bethel, quitting the scarlet-and-purple, flashed into those of the yellows.  He knew his nephew was graceless enough; but—­to see him with a pair of handcuffs on!

“What does all this mean?” he authoritatively demanded of the officers.

“It’s no fault of ours, colonel, we have but executed the warrant,” answered one of them.  “The magistrate, issued it yesterday against these two gentlemen, on suspicion of their being concerned in the murder of Hallijohn.”

“In conjunction with Richard Hare?” cried the astounded colonel, gazing from one to the other, prisoners and officers, in scared bewilderment.

“It’s alleged now that Richard Hare didn’t have nothing to do with it,” returned the man.  “It’s said he is innocent.  I’m sure I don’t know.”

“I swear that I am innocent,” passionately uttered Otway Bethel.

“Well, sir, you have only got to prove it,” civilly rejoined the policeman.

Miss Carlyle and Lady Isabel leaned from the window, their curiosity too much excited to remain silent longer.  Mrs. Hare was standing by their side.

“What is the matter?” both asked of the upturned faces immediately beneath.

“Them two—­the fine member as wanted to be, and young Bethel—­be arrested for murder,” spoke a man’s clear voice in answer.  “The tale runs as they murdered Hallijohn, and then laid it on the shoulders of young Dick Hare, who didn’t do it after all.”

A faint wailing cry of startled pain, and Barbara flew to Mrs. Hare, from whom it proceeded.

“Oh, mamma, my dear mamma, take comfort!  Do not suffer this to agitate you to illness.  Richard is innocent, and it will surely be so proved.  Archibald,” she added, beckoning to her husband in her alarm, “come, if you can, and say a word of assurance to mamma!”

It was impossible that Mr. Carlyle could hear the words, but he could see that his wife was greatly agitated, and wanted him.