"Who is he?"
"Mr. Charles Whippleton."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed the officer.
I pulled off the blankets in which the late junior partner had enfolded himself, and exhibited my prisoner.
"What's the matter with him? Is he sick?"
"He has a sore head. But please to get another officer, and a carriage."
"Let him get two. I want one," said Marian.
"I don't know you; but I begin to think you are the clerk that disappeared," added the man.
"I am; I was in the employ of Collingsby and Whippleton."
"Nobody knew what had become of you; but Mr. Whippleton's mother said you had run away with all her property. The officers are on the lookout for you also."