Steps were now heard approaching upon the pavement; the noise of the scuffle had reached the ears of one of the protectors of the peace, and he was hastening to the rescue.
A light at the same time appeared at a window in one of the lower rooms of the mansion so lately robbed, while above a sash was thrown hastily up, and a slight, white-robed figure leaned forth into the night.
The light in the window below streamed directly out upon the fallen hero—alas! a hero no longer—who now began to gather himself and his scattered senses together once more. As he arose to his feet a cry from above rang out on the stillness of the night.
“Oh, Earle! Earle! how came you here, and what is the matter?”
The voice was that of Editha Dalton, and, springing forward under the window, the young man replied, reassuringly:
“Do not be alarmed, Miss Editha. I have had a fall, but am all right now. I’ll come and tell you to-morrow how I happened to be here to-night.”
“So, so, my fine young gentleman, you’ll come and tell the lady to-morrow, will you? I’m thinking mayhaps you will have a chance to tell some one else by that time, you disturber of the peace;” and, before Earle Wayne could scarcely realize what had happened, a pair of steel bracelets were slipped about his wrists, and he was a prisoner.
“You have made a mistake, sir,” he said civilly, to his captor, yet beginning to feel very uncomfortable in the position wherein he found himself. “I was trying to stop a couple of thieves who had just robbed this house, when one of them knocked me down and cleared.”
“Yes, yes; I find I always get hold of the wrong rogue—some one else does the deed and the one I catch is always so ‘innocent,’” laughed the policeman, with good-natured sarcasm. “Aha! what have we here?” he cried again, as his foot came in contact with some glittering object and sent it spinning on before him.
He stooped to pick it up, and, as the light fell upon it, he saw it was a costly bracelet, set with a solitare diamond surrounded with emeralds.