Iris remembered the culvert, and turned towards it.

There was a hiding-place under the arch, if she could only get down into the dry ditch in time.

She was feeling her way to the slope of it with her feet, when a heavy hand seized her by the arm; and a resolute voice said: "You are my prisoner." She was led back into the road.

The man who had got her blew a whistle.
Two other men joined him.
"Show a light," he said; "and let's see who the fellow is." The shade was slipped aside from a lantern: the light fell full on the prisoner's face.

Amazement petrified the two attendant policemen.