ame--had given me none, saying he had lost his cap in the
tunnel. After a while, when my anger had somewhat subsided, I thought
more pitifully of the man whose clothes I wore. Poor wretch, without
doubt he had had a hard time of it; what wonder that he had seized upon
the first opportunity of escape! He had said that the favour he required
would entail personal inconvenience on myself, and that was exactly what
it did. I looked at the matter from all sides; I saw the dilemma I was
in. It would not do to be seen in this branded garb--the police would
lay hands on me at once; nothing would persuade them that I was not the
convict. Indeed, who was likely to believe the improbable story I had to
tell? I felt that I could expect few to credit it on my mere word, and I
had nothing to prove my identity, for I remembered now that my
pocket-book and letters were in my coat; I had never given them a
thought when making the exchange of clothes. So, as things were, it
might take some days for me to establish my real personality, and even
when that were done I should still be held responsible for conniving at
the prisoner's escape.

All things considered, therefore, I resolved not to get into the hands
of the police. But this was no easy matter. There was nothing for it but
to walk. I could not face the publicity of railway travelling or of any
other conveyance: indeed, it was impossible for me to buy food for
myself.

I had many narrow escapes from detection, but by dint of hiding through
the day and walking at night, and now and then bribing a small child to
buy me something to eat, I contrived to get slowly on my way. It was on
the evening of the third day that I reached home. I often thought,
somewhat bitterly, of my short cut through the tunnel and all the delay
it had caused!

[Illustration: "BRIBING A SMALL CHILD TO BUY ME SOMETHING TO EAT."]

When I actually stood outside the little cottage which I called home,
and looked up at the windows, the hope that had buoyed me up for so long
deserted me, and I dreaded to enter. At last, however, I opened the gate
and walked up the garden. There was a light in the small sitting-room;
the curtains were not drawn, and I could see my sister Kitty seated by
the table. She had evidently been weeping bitterly, and as she raised
her face there was an expression of such hopeless sorrow in her eyes
that my heart seemed to stop beating as I looked at her. Mary must be
very ill. Perhaps--but