ng in a straggling line, we made our way across the
common and down a steep slope on the seaward side of the village. As
George Woodley and I stumbled along over the uneven ground the
handcuffs jerked, and chafed our fettered wrists; but the chance of our
giving them the slip in the darkness and rousing up a pursuit was too
serious a risk for the convicts to make it likely that they would
liberate us at that important moment of their escape. On we went in
perfect silence, skirting the village; and now almost immediately
beneath us lay the harbour, sheltered from the beat of the open sea by
the curved stone jetty, which always reminded me of a defending arm,
crooked at the elbow, shielding the small craft which sought its
protection. They had no need of it on this particular night, for the
sea could not have been calmer if the month had been June instead of
December.

Close behind me came the man whom I had seen helped down from the roof
of the coach; and now, from a muttered word uttered now and again, I
gathered that he was blind. Assisted, however, as before, by a
comrade, he kept pace with the rest, and gave less trouble than might
have been expected. We were half-way down the precipitous hillside
when the leaders came to an abrupt halt--an example followed
immediately by the rest of the party--and as we steadied ourselves,
digging our heels into the ground, a voice cried,--

"Listen!"

It was the blind man who spoke. He had already uttered the word once
before in a lower key, and I knew now that it was he who had given the
first warning of the tinkling chains as we crouched in the pit.

As I have already said, the sea was very calm; there was no surf
beating on the rocks, and in addition to this it was one of those
still, frosty nights when the slightest sound can be heard with great
distinctness. Sharp and clear, as though not more than a hundred yards
distant, came the rhythmic clatter of a galloping horse. It was
probably still the better part of a mile distant, descending the long,
steep hill to the village; but the sides of the valley threw back and
intensified the sound, so that an impression was given of the rider
being close at hand. It was not likely that any one would gallop at
headlong speed into Rockymouth at close on midnight on a winter's night
unless his business was urgent; and it did not take the escaped
prisoners long to find a reason for the messenger's hot haste.

"The murder's out