I shrunk back in a panic to my distant corner, with my heart literally in my mouth.

There was a brief struggle on the doorstep; the hat-box flew in, and the door was actually opened to admit the owner, when a couple of porters laid violent hands upon him and dragged him off the train.
It was not I who had been left behind this time, but Michael McCrane; and while he and his portmanteau remained disconsolate in Belfast, I and his hat-box were being whirled in the direction of Londonderry in the company of a person who, whatever he may have thought of McCrane, without doubt considered me a fugitive! It was a trying position, and I was as much at sea as I had been during the agitated hours of the terrible night, I tried to appear calm, and took refuge behind my newspaper in order to collect my ideas and interpose a screen between myself and the critical stare of my fellow- passenger.

Alas! it was avoiding Scylla only to fall into Charybdis.
The first words which met my eyes were:-- "Bank Robbery in London .-- "A robbery was perpetrated in -- -'s bank on Wednesday night, under circumstances which point to one of the cashiers as the culprit.

The manager's box, containing a considerable amount of loose cash, was found broken open, and it is supposed the thief has also made away with a considerable sum in notes and securities.

The cashier in question has disappeared and is supposed to have absconded to the north.