know there was some kind of an excitement--a quarrel it
could not be--poor Sally Nutter's too mild and quiet for that; but
a--a--_something_--a--an--agitation--or a bad news--or something--just
before he went out; and so, poor Nutter, you see, it looks very like as
if he had done something rash.'

Talking thus, they reached the Mills by the river side, not far from
Knockmaroon.

On learning that Toole was about making a call there, Lowe gave his
bridle to a little Chapelizod ragamuffin, and, dismounting, accompanied
the doctor. Mrs. Nutter was in her bed.

'Make my service to your mistress,' said Toole, 'and say I'll look in on
her in five minutes, if she'll admit me.' And Lowe and the doctor walked
on to the garden, and so side by side down to the river's bank.

'Hey!--look at that,' said Toole, with a start, in a hard whisper; and
he squeezed Lowe's arm very hard, and looked as if he saw a snake.

It was the impression in the mud of the same peculiar foot-print they
had tracked so far in the park. There was a considerable pause, during
which Lowe stooped down to examine the details of the footmark.

'Hang it--you know--poor Mrs. Nutter--eh?' said Toole, and hesitated.

'We must make a note of that--the thing's important,' said Mr. Lowe,
sternly fixing his gray eye upon Toole.

'Certainly, Sir,' said the doctor, bridling; 'I should not like to be
the man to hit him--you know; but it _is_ remarkable--and, curse it,
Sir, if called on, I'll speak the truth as straight as _you_, Sir--every
bit, Sir.'

And he added an oath, and looked very red and heated.

The magistrate opened his pocket-book, took forth the pattern sole,
carefully superimposed it, called Toole's attention, and said--

'_You see_.'

Toole nodded hurriedly; and just then the maid came out to ask him to
see her mistress.

'I say, my good woman,' said Lowe; 'just look here. Whose foot-print is
that--do you know it?'

'Oh, why, to be sure I do. Isn't it the master's brogues?' she replied,
frightened, she knew not why, after the custom of her kind.

'You observe that?' and he pointed specially to the transverse line
across the heel. 'Do you know that?'

The woman assented.

'Who made or mended these shoes?'

'Bill Heaney, the shoemaker, down in Martin's-row, there--'twas he made
them, and mended them, too, Sir.'

So he came to a perfect identification, and then an authentication of
his paper pattern; then she could say they were certain