Queen's name."

"For what?" asked Brian, steadily.

"The murder of Oliver Whyte."

At this Madge gave a cry.

"It is not true!" she said, wildly. "My God, it's not true."

Brian did not answer, but, ghastly pale, held out his hands. Gorby
slipped the handcuffs on to his wrists with a feeling of compunction,
despite his joy in running his Man down. This done, Fitzgerald turned
round to where Madge was standing, pale and still, as though turned
into stone.

"Madge," he said, in a clear, low voice, "I am going to prison--perhaps
to death; but I swear to you, by all that I hold most sacred,
that I am innocent of this murder."

"My darling!" She made a step forward, but her father stepped before
her.

"Keep back," he said, in a hard voice; "there is nothing between you
and that man now."

She turned round with an ashen face, but with a proud look in
her clear eyes.

"You are wrong," she answered, with a touch of scorn in her voice. "I