and unfaltering, though in the officers of justice he recognised faces he had known before, and in that distant town, in which all that he dreaded in the past lay treasured up. At the sound of his voice the spell that for an instant had arrested the step of the Avenging Son, melted away.
"Seize him!" he cried to the officers; "you see your prisoner."
"Hold!" cried Aram, drawing back; "by what authority is this outrage?—for what am I arrested?"
"Behold!" said Walter, speaking through his teeth—"behold our warrant! You are accused of murder! Know you the name of Richard Houseman? Pause—consider—or that of Daniel Clarke?"
Slowly Aram lifted his eyes from the warrant, and it might be seen that his face was a shade more pale, though his look did not quail, nor his nerves tremble. Slowly he turned his gaze upon Walter, and then, after one moment's survey, dropped it once more on the paper.
