"But I may be of use in misleading the officers," said Father Jerome.
"Markland will take care of them. He can be trusted. Come along!"
And seizing the priest's arm, he dragged him through the secret door.
As soon as this was accomplished, Markland rushed out of the room, and hurried to the porter's lodge.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SEARCH.
No sooner was the drawbridge lowered than several persons on horseback rode into the court-yard.
By this time, some of the servants had come forth with lights, so that the unwelcome visitors could be distinguished. The party consisted of half a dozen mounted constables, at the head of whom was Mr. Fowden, the Manchester magistrate. Ordering two of the officers to station themselves near the drawbridge, and enjoining the others to keep strict watch over the house, Mr. Fowden dismounted, and addressing Markland, who was standing near, desired to be conducted to Miss Rawcliffe.
"Inform her that I am Mr. Fowden, one of the Manchester magistrates," he said. "I will explain my errand myself."
"Pray step this way, sir," rejoined Markland, bowing respectfully.
Ushering the magistrate into the entrance hall, Markland helped to disencumber him of his heavy cloak, which he laid with the magistrate's cocked-hat and whip upon a side-table, and then led him to the library—announcing him, as he had been desired, to Constance, who with her cousin received him in a very stately manner, and requested him to be seated.