[CHAPTER VII.]
"WHERE IS THE CHILD OF GULIAN VAN HUYDEN?"
"In the early part of the evenin' I left him in this very house, in company with a gal named Frank,—"
The judge interrupted him,—"Bring in the prisoner!" he shouted, and the eleven shuffled into the room, escorting the little gentleman in Turkish jacket and trowsers: "Draw near sir," he beckoned to Ninety-One, "attend this man from this house,—" he pointed to Yorke, "and do with him as I direct you,—thus—" he communicated his directions to Ninety-One, in a rapid tone, broken by emotion, and inaudible to the eleven, "and you gentlemen,—" to the eleven,—"already have your instructions."
He paused and then clutched Ninety-One by the hand, the convict endeavoring, although vainly, to gain a glimpse of his features,—"In this house with Frank did you say?" his voice was husky.
"In this house, with a gal named Frank," answered Ninety-One.
The judge stepped hastily from the platform, and his steps trembling as he went, disappeared through a side door, his hands clasped over his breast.
Israel Yorke found himself alone with Ninety-One and the eleven gentlemen with clubs. Ninety-One addressed him in a tone of cheerful politeness:
"Come, old cock, you and me's got to travel," he said, covering Israel's right shoulder with his huge hand.