orton's own nature) he felt himself greatly
shaken in his allegiance to the chief, by recollecting the effect
produced on his valour by a single glance from the instrument of law.
He had not yet lived long enough to be aware that men are sometimes
the Representatives of Things; that what the scytale was to the Spartan
hero, a sheriff's writ often is to a Waterloo medallist: that a Bow
Street runner will enter the foulest den where Murder sits with his
fellows, and pick out his prey with the beck of his forefinger. That,
in short, the thing called LAW, once made tangible and present, rarely
fails to palsy the fierce heart of the thing called CRIME. For Law is
the symbol of all mankind reared against One Foe--the Man of Crime. Not
yet aware of this truth, nor, indeed, in the least suspecting Gawtrey of
worse offences than those of a charlatanic and equivocal profession, the
young man mused over his protector's cowardice in disdain and wonder:
till, wearied with conjectures, distrust, and shame at his own strange
position of obligation to one whom he could not respect, he fell asleep.

When he woke, he saw the grey light of dawn that streamed cheerlessly
through his shutterless window, struggling with the faint ray of a
candle that Gawtrey, shading with his hand, held over the sleeper. He
started up, and, in the confusion of waking and the imperfect light by
which he beheld the strong features of Gawtrey, half imagined it was a
foe who stood before him.

"Take care, man," said Gawtrey, as Morton, in this belief, grasped his
arm. "You have a precious rough gripe of your own. Be quiet, will you? I
have a word to say to you." Here Gawtrey, placing the candle on a chair,
returned to the door and closed it.

"Look you," he said in a whisper, "I have nearly run through my circle
of invention, and my wit, fertile as it is, can present to me little
encouragement in the future. The eyes of this Favart once on me, every
disguise and every double will not long avail. I dare not return to
London: I am too well known in Brussels, Berlin, and Vienna--"

"But," interrupted Morton, raising himself on his arm, and fixing his
dark eyes upon his host,--"but you have told me again and again that you
have committed no crime; why then be so fearful of discovery?"

"Why," repeated Gawtrey, with a slight hesitation which he instantly
overcame, "why! have not you yourself learned that appearances have the
effect of crimes?--were you not chased