he heard them say so. Then the shots were
fired within, then Wolf and his men got in, and
Mr. Hurd, who was now at the door, got in with
them, to protect Julia, and see this dangerous
and inconvenient character disposed of. He was
looking demurely on at a safish distance, when
his late triumphant rival was summoned to
surrender.

No reply.

Dr. Wolf coaxed.

No reply.

Dr. Wolf told him he had police as well as
keepers, and resistance would be idle.

No reply.

Dr. Wolf ordered his men to break in the
door.

After some little delay, one of the keepers
applied a chisel, while a policeman held his
truncheon ready to defend the operator. The
lock gave way. But the door could not open for
furniture.

After some further delay they took it off its
hinges, and the room stood revealed.

To their surprise no rush was made at them.

The maniac was not even in sight.

"He is down upon his luck," whispered one
of the new keepers: "we shall find him crouched
somewhere." They looked under the bed. He
was not there. They opened a cupboard: three
or four dresses hung from wooden pegs; they
searched the gowns most minutely: but found
no maniac hid in their ample folds. Presently
some soot was observed lying in the grate: and
it was inferred he had gone up the chimney.

On inspection the opening appeared almost
too narrow. Then Dr. Wolf questioned his
sentinels in the yard. "Have you been there
all the time?"

"Yes, sir."

"Seen nothing?"

"No, sir. And our eyes have never been off
the window and the leads."

Here was a mystery: and not a clue to its solution.
The window was open: but five-and-twenty
feet above the paved yard: had he leaped
down he must have been dashed to pieces.

Many tongues began to go at once: in the
midst of which Edward burst in, and found the
two dead men of contemporary history consisted of
a dead dog, and a stunned man, who, having a head
like a bullet, was now come to himself and vowing
vengeance. He found Julia very pale, supported
and consoled by Mr. Hurd. He was congratulating
her on her escape from a dangerous maniac.

She rose and tottered away from him to her
brother and clung to him. He said what he
could to encourage her, then deposited her in an
arm-chair and went up-stairs; he soon satisfied
himself Alfred was not in the house. On this
he requested Dr. Wolf and his men to leave the
premises. The doctor demurred. Edward insisted,
and challenged him to show a magistrate's
warrant for entering a private house. The doctor
was obliged to own he had none. Edward then
told the policemen they were engaged in an
illegal act; the police were forbidden by Act of
Parliament to take part in these captures. Now
the police knew that very well: but, being handsomely
bribed, they had presumed, and not for
the first time, upon that ignorance of law which
is deemed an essential part of a private citizen's
accomplishments in modern days. In a word, by
temper and firmness, and a smattering of law
gathered from the omniscient 'Tizer, Edward
cleared his castle of the lawless crew. But
paraded the street, and watched the y
dusk, when its proprietor ran rusty an'
them out.

Julia sat between Edward and Mr. Hurd,
her head thrown back and her eyes
received in silence their congratulations
escape. She was thinking of his.
had quite done, she opened her eyes
"Send for Dr. Sampson. Nobody
anything. Oh pray, pray, pray send for Dr.
Sampson."

Mr. Hurd said he would go for Dr. Sampson.

She thanked him warmly.

Then she crept away to her bedroom and
locked herself in, and sat on the hearth-rug, and
thought, and thought, and recalled every word
and tone of her Alfred; comparing things old
and new.

Dr. Sampson was a few miles out of town,
visiting a patient. It was nine o'clock in the
evening when he got Julia's note; but he came
on to Pembroke-street at once. Dr. Wolf and
his men had retired, leaving a sentinel in the
street, on the bare chance of Alfred returning.
Dr. Sampson found brother and sister sitting
sadly, but lovingly together. Julia rose upon
his entrance. "Oh, Doctor Sampson! Now is
he— what they say he is?"

"How can I tell, till I see 'm?" objected the
doctor.

"But you know they call people mad who are
nothing of the kind: for you said so."

Sampson readily assented to this. "Why it
was but last year a surjin came to me with
one Jackson, a tailor, and said, 'Just sign a
certificate for this man: his wife's mad.' 'Let
me see her,' sid I. 'What for,' sis he; 'when
her own husband applies.' 'Excuse me,' sis I,
'I'm not a bat, I'm Saampson.' I went to see
her; she was nairvous and excited; 'Oh, I know
what you come about, said she. 'But you are
mistaken.' I questioned her kindly, and she
told me her husband was a great trile t' her
nairves. I refused to sign: on that disn't the
tailor drown himself in the canal nixt day? He
was the madman; and she knew it all the time, but
wouldn't tell us; and that's a woman all over."

"Well then," said Julia hopefully.

"Ay but," said Sampson, "these cases are
exceptions, after all: and the chances are nine to
one he's mad. Dawn't ye remember that was
one of the solutions I offered ye, when he levanted
on his wedding-day?" He added satirically,
"And couldn't all that logic keep in a
little reason?"