“We?  Do you mean that you are hunting down a woman?”

Miss Gordon withdrew her hand from her lover’s, and instinctively moved farther from him.

“I am most diligently hunting down the author of a foul and awful crime; and it is my duty to my friend and client to use every possible exertion, in discovering and bringing to punishment the person who robbed and murdered him—­be it man, woman or child.  Feminine youth and beauty are no aegis against the barbed javelins of justice and the District Solicitor (Mr. Churchill) and I, have no doubt of the guilt of the woman, who will soon be put on trial here for her monstrous and unnatural crime.”

CHAPTER V.

In a deep, narrow “railway cut,” through Virginia hills, a south-bound freight train had been so badly wrecked in consequence of a “washout,” that the southern passenger express going north was detained fourteen hours; thereby missing connection at Washington City, where the passengers were again delayed nearly twelve hours.  Tired and very hungry, having eaten nothing but a sandwich and a cup of coffee for three days, Beryl felt profoundly thankful when the cars rolled into Jersey City.  In the bustle and confusion incident to arrival in that Babel, she did not observe the scrutiny to which she was subjected by a man genteelly dressed, who gave her his hand as she stepped down from the train, and kept by her side while she hastened in the direction of the ferry.

Reaching the slip where the boat awaited passengers, she was vexed to see it backing out into the stream, and leaned against the chain which barred egress until the next trip.

“You have only five minutes to wait for the boat.  You seem to have had a long and trying journey, madam?”

Glancing at him for the first time, Beryl perceived that he held a slip of yellow paper from which he looked now and then to her face.  His features were coarse and heavy, but his eyes were keen as a ferret’s; and without answering his question, she turned away and looked across the water which teemed with craft of every description, laden with freight animate and inanimate, passing to and from the vast city, whose spires, domes and forest of masts rose like a gray cloud against the sky, etching there their leaden outlines.

“You live at No.—­West—­Street, between 8th and 9th Avenue?”

“You are a stranger, and your questions are offensive and impertinent.”

As she turned and confronted him haughtily, he stepped closer to her, threw back his blue overcoat, and pointed to the metal badge on his breast.

“I am an officer of the law, and have a warrant for your arrest.  You are Beryl Brentano.”

“I am Beryl Brentano, yes; but there is some blunder, some mistake.  How dare you annoy me?  Arrest me?  Me!”

“Do not make a scene.  My instructions are to deal with you as gently as possible.  Better come quietly into the station near, and I will read you the warrant, otherwise I shall be obliged to use force.  You see I have two assistants yonder.”