"So I thought," sneered he. "I suppose it would not suit your purpose to inform me where he is now."
"On the contrary, it would exactly suit my purpose, Mr. Collingsby. He is in a carriage at the door, between two officers."
"Don't say anything harsh to Philip, father," interposed Marian, wounded by his sternness towards me. "It was he who saved me from harm, and he has brought Mr. Whippleton back, with all the money he stole."
"Do you mean so?"
The sad End of Charles Whippleton's Career.
Page 317.
I went to the door, and requested the officers to bring in their prisoner.
"Is it possible that I have been mistaken in you, young man?" added Mr. Collingsby, glancing at me again. "I was satisfied that you had run away with my partner, because you had shared his guilt."
"You were mistaken, sir," I answered, as the officers conducted Mr. Whippleton into the room.
The prisoner was very feeble, and was placed in an arm-chair. His head was tied up with a handkerchief, and he looked as miserable as a human being could. He was not a man of great courage, and his mishaps appeared to have broken his spirit.