as no need to hurry the unfortunate woman. In less than three
minutes she returned, bringing a "quartern" loaf and a large piece of
cheese. She thrust them out upon the window-sill and withdrew her hand
before he could catch it. But he held the window open.

"Now go!" she said. "I cannot do more for you--for God's sake go!"

"You seem very anxious to see the last of me," he whispered. "I daresay
if I am hanged you will get a ticket to see me turned off. Yes--we
mention those things rather freely up in town. Don't be alarmed. I will
come back to-morrow night--you had better listen. If you had shown a
little more heart, I would have been satisfied, but you are so stony that
I think I would like another fifty pounds to-morrow night. Those notes
are so deliciously crisp--"

"Listen, Walter!" said Mary. "Unless you promise to go I will raise an
alarm at once. I can face shame again well enough. I will have you--hush!
For God's sake--hush! There is somebody coming!"

The convict's quick ear had caught the sound. Instantly he knelt and then
lay down at full length upon the ground below the window. It was a fine
night and the conscientious Mr. Gall was walking his beat. The steady
tramp of his heavy shoes had something ominous in it which struck terror
into the heart of the wretched fugitive. With measured tread he came from
the direction of the village. Reaching the cottage he paused and dimly in
the starlight Mrs. Goddard could distinguish his glazed hat--the
provincial constabulary still wore hats in those days. Mr. Gall stood not
fifteen yards from the cottage, failed to observe that a window was
open on the lower floor, nodded to himself as though satisfied with his
inspection and walked on. Little by little the sound of his steps grew
fainter in the distance. Walter slowly raised himself again from the
ground, and put his head in at the window.

"You see it would not be hard to have you caught," whispered his wife,
still breathless with the passing excitement. "That was the policeman. If
I had called him, it would have been all over with you. I tell you if you
try to come again I will give you up."

"Oh, that's the way you treat me, is it?" said the convict with another
oath. "Then you had better look out for your dear Mr. Juxon, that's all."

Without another word, Goddard glided away from the window, let himself
out by the wicket gate and disappeared across the road.

Mary Goddard was in that moment less horrified