good repute, and made all possible haste to remove. But, to effect
this successfully, it was necessary that Mr. Lang should have a
change of dress.

He was making this change when half a dozen men unexpectedly
entered. "You are my prisoner," said one, catching hold of Mr. Lang
by the coat-collar. "Tropes, secure the other."

They were now both in custody, and the officers, after a little
search, discovered the broken box, and arrested the black man.

"For what am I arrested?" inquired Mr. Lang.

"That you will soon know," was the reply.

"But I demand an answer now. I will not move a step till I get it."

"What! what's that?" said a stout, rough-looking man, striking the
prisoner, and treating him more like a dog than what he was.

"I demand an answer to my inquiry. For what am I arrested?"

"He's a dangerous man," remarked another of the officers; "it's best
to put him in irons;" whereupon he drew from a capacious pocket a
pair of rusty manacles. Mr. Lang, and his two fellows in trouble,
found it best to coolly submit, and did so. Five minutes passed, and
the cold walls of a prison enclosed them.