"I have got the magistrate's warrant," said the policeman.
"Still, there must be something more. What is it?"
The policeman did not feel himself obliged to answer the question; but, still yielding to Paul's stronger presence, went on humbly: "Well, sir, of course the people at Howden Clough were knocked up at once, and a letter was discovered from you to young Master Edward, asking him to meet you."
"Still, that's not enough to apprehend me," said Paul.
"Maybe not," replied the constable. "But the knife which was buried in Mr. Ned Wilson's heart is known to be yours. It was seen on the desk in your office only yesterday."
Paul's lips became pale as these words were spoken. He knew it was damning evidence. He remembered the knife; he had reason to. "Very well," he said. "I will go with you; but, first of all, let me ring for a servant. No, I do not wish to move away from you farther than the bell here." He pressed a button as he spoke, and the servant, who had been listening, eagerly rushed to him.
"Mary," said Paul, "where's my mother?"
"I don't know," replied the girl. "I don't think she's up yet."
"Perhaps she's not well," said Paul. "Tell her for me that I have to go down into the town with these men, on a matter of business, but that she need be under no apprehension about me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," replied the girl.