The man said a few words in a low tone to the other, and then turned again to the old gentleman.
"I am sorry to be obliged to detain you," he said, more respectfully than he had hitherto spoken. "My directions are to take into custody a lady and gentleman travelling from Edinburgh in a specially-engaged compartment. The little girl is not mentioned in my warrant, but I regret that she must be included. No doubt you will be able to set it straight. I advise you to come quietly, and then no force will be used."
"Come quietly, indeed! I refuse to come at all!" the old gentleman exclaimed. "You are exceeding your authority, and will get yourself into trouble. Read me your warrant."
Elsie listened silently while the officer read out something about a lady dressed as a widow passing under the name of Thwaites, and a gentleman, calling himself her brother, who had left the "Royal Hotel" that morning, and travelled to London in a specially-engaged carriage. This perplexed Elsie very much, for she remembered what Meg had said of the gentleman she had been told to call Uncle William, "then he passes himself off as her brother, and he's her husband all the time," which seemed strangely like what the man had just read, except for the name Thwaites, which Elsie had never heard.
"Why, it's most absurd!" the old gentleman cried. "The only point of similarity is that of my daughter being a widow. You have not the slightest ground for identifying us with the description you hold."
"Nevertheless, I am compelled to take you before a magistrate, where you can explain to his satisfaction," the officer replied firmly, drawing from his pocket some strange instruments, looking like clumsy bracelets, with heavy chains linking them together.
Mrs. Donaldson uttered a faint scream, and sank back on the carriage seat. The man, without a word, proceeded to clasp them on Mr. Donaldson's wrists, while the old gentleman fumed and stamped about the carriage.
A signal brought up several porters and the guard of the train, who crowded round the door, eager to see the exciting scene.
"Take this child in your arms and keep before me," one of the officials said in peremptory tones to a porter, who lifted Elsie up, and stood in readiness, while the "fairy mother" and Grandpapa Donaldson were assisted to alight.
"That's a queer go!" said the guard, eyeing the old gentleman with a broad stare of astonishment. "It was a gentleman looking quite different that got in the train at Edinburgh."