"You c'n search me, Conshance," murmured Freddie.

"I don' know what you 're talkin' 'bout, Cons'ance," said Mr. Rodney in
a very hurt tone. "We--we put up security f'r five thous'n dollars,
that's what we did. This is all the thanks we getsh for it. Ungrachful!"

Constance had been thinking very hard, paying no heed to his maudlin
defence. It rapidly was dawning upon her that these men had secured her
lover's release on bail at half-past ten o'clock, an hour and a half
before she had given her bribe of nine thousand crowns to the gaoler.
That being the case, it was becoming clear to her that the wretch
deliberately had taken the money, knowing that Brock was not in the
prison, and with the plain design to rob her of the amount. It was a
transaction in which he could be perfectly secure; bribing of public
officials is a solemn offence in Austria and Germany. She could have no
recourse, could make no complaint. Her money was gone!

"Where is Mr. Br--Mr. Medcroft?" she demanded, her voice full of
anxiety. If he were out of gaol, why had he failed to come to the
meeting-place?

"He's locked in," persisted Freddie.

"That's just it, Miss Fowler," explained Odell-Carney glibly. "You
shee--see, it was this way: we got him out on bail on condition he'd
'pear to-morrow morning 'fore the magistrate. Affer we'd got him out, he
insisted on coming 'round here so's he could run away with you. That
wassen a gennelmanly thing to do, affer we'd put up our money. We
coul'n' afford have him runnin' away with you. So we had him locked in a