p the pursuit so readily.
Obed Chute had not only recognized him, but also captured him, and
not only captured him, but very severely punished him; yet the very
fact that Obed Chute had suffered him to go showed how complete his
ignorance must be of the true state of the case. If he had but known
even a portion of the truth he would never have allowed him to go; if
he and Lord Chetwynde were really allied in an enterprise such as he
at first feared when he discovered that alliance, then he himself
would have been detained. True, Obed Chute knew no more of him than
this, that he had once made inquiries about the Chetwynde family
affairs; yet, in case of any serious alliance on their part, this of
itself would have been sufficient cause for his detention. Yet Obed
Chute had sent him off. What did that show? This, above all, that he
could not have any great purpose in connection with his friend.

Amidst all these thoughts his sufferings were extreme. He lay there
fearful of pursuit, yet unable to move, distracted by pain both of
body and mind. Time passed on, but his fears continued unabated. He
was excited and nervous. The pain had brought on a deep physical
prostration, which deprived him of his usual self-possession. Every
moment he expected to see a gigantic figure in a dress-coat and a
broad-brimmed hat of Tuscan straw, with stern, relentless face and
gleaming eyes, striding along the road toward him, to seize him in a
resistless grasp, and send him to some awful fate; or, if not that,
at any rate to administer to him some tremendous blow, like that
catapultian kick, which would hurl him in an instant into oblivion.

The time passed by. He lay there in pain and in fear. Excitement and
suffering had disordered his brain. The constant apprehension of
danger made him watchful, and his distempered imagination made him
fancy that every sound was the footstep of his enemy. Watchful
against this, he held his pistol in his nerveless grasp, feeling
conscious at the same time how ineffectively he would use it if the
need for its use should arise. The road before him wound round the
hill up which he had clambered in such a way that but a small part of
it was visible from where he sat. Behind him rose the wall of the
park, and all around the trees grew thickly and sheltered him.

Suddenly, as he looked there with ceaseless vigilance, he became
aware of a figure that was moving up the road. It was a woman's form.
The figure was