“But the warrant! The warrant!”
“I have it here, Mr. Remsen. I secured it before I left the city. It is a bench warrant and is good anywhere in the State—and it directs me to arrest and to hold the person of James Duryea, alias Ledger Dinwiddie, alias Bare-Faced Jimmy. Here it is. Are you satisfied as to that?”
“Y-yes,” reluctantly.
“He told you partly the truth, regarding that scene in the summerhouse, for he did have the face to defy me. I offered him his liberty, if he would leave the country, after returning the jewels he had stolen; but he dared to face me; to claim that he could prove that he is Ledger Dinwiddie, and not James Duryea.”
“But where is the man who was in the library with Miss——”
“He is there, on the floor,” replied Nick, interrupting. “The real circumstance is just the reverse from the manner in which he told it. It was Miss Nightingale who found him there. He had the jewels in his possession at the time. She saw them. That was why she asked me to come out here to-day—and even you will admit that I came here upon her invitation.”
“Why doesn’t Nick Carter produce the jewels, since he seems to know so much about them, Mr. Remsen?” said a drawling voice from the floor, and then they saw the fallen Ledger Dinwiddie draw himself to a sitting posture, and attempt to caress his bruised jaw with his manacled hands.
“I think I can do that, too, now that the time has come,” said the detective, smiling. He turned to Mrs. Remsen, who had drawn nearer to Nan, and was now holding her by the hand.
“Madam,” he said, “I wish to ask you a few questions about the interior arrangements of your house; that is, about some of its ornamentations. Will you indulge me?”
“Certainly, sir. What is it?”