During the hearing, the frail woman had stood with bent head, dazed and benumbed.  When her name was asked, she had made no answer nor did she give her residence.  “I am an Englishwoman,” was all she had said.

Mike, now privileged to enjoy the freedom of the room, had been watching the proceedings with increasing interest, so much so that he had edged up to the group, as close as he dared, where he could get the light full on the woman.  When the words, “I am an Englishwoman,” fell from her lips, he let out an oath, and slapped his thigh with the fiat of his hand.  “Of course it is!  I thought I know’d her when she come in.  English, is she?  What a lot o’ lies they do be puttin’ up.  She never saw England.  She’s a dago from ’cross town.  Won’t Mrs. Cleary’s eyes pop when I tell her!”

The group in front of the captain’s desk disintegrated.  The woman, still silent, was led away to the cell.  Rosenthal’s clerk, who had made the charge for the firm, had come round to the captain’s side of the desk to sign some papers.  Pickert and the officer had already disappeared through the street-door.  At this juncture the priest entered.  His presence was noted by every man in the room, most of whom rose to their feet, some removing their hats.

“Good-morning, captain,” he said, including with his bow the other people present.  “I have just left Mrs. Cleary, who tells me that one of her men is in trouble.  Ah!  I see him now.  Is there anything that I can do for him?”

“Nothing, your reverence; the boy’s not much hurt.  I don’t think it was Mike’s fault, from the testimony, but it’s a case of bail, all right.”

“I am afraid, captain, she is not worrying so much about our poor Mike here as she is about the horse and wagon.  These she needs, for Mr. Cleary is away, and there is no one to help her.  Perhaps you would be good enough to send an officer with Mike, and let them drive back to her?”

“I guess that won’t be necessary, your reverence.  See here, Mike, get into your wagon and take it back to the stable, and bring somebody with you to go bail.  We didn’t want the wagon, only there was no place to leave it, and we knew they would send up for it sooner or later.  It’s outside now.”

“Thank you, captain.  And now, Mike, be very sure you come back,” exclaimed the priest, with an admonishing finger; “do you hear?” He always liked the Irishman.

Mike grinned the width of his face, caught up his cap, and made for the door.  The priest watched him until he had cleared the room, then, leaning over the desk, asked:  “Anything for me this morning, captain?”

“No, your reverence, not that I can see.  Two drunks come in with the first batch, and a couple of crooks who had been working the ‘elevated’; and a woman, a shoplifter.  Got away with a piece of lace—­ a mantilla, they called it, whatever that is.  She’s just gone down to wait for the four o’clock delivery.  It’s a case of grand larceny.  They say the lace is worth $250.  Wasn’t that about it?”