e drew over his own
under-clothing; and a felt hat--he had purposely left his own upstairs.
He then sat himself down by the door, with the key in his hand, waiting.

He had no light; the time was dreary, long, and awful. The ringers were
practicing in a neighbouring church, and the clashing of the bells was
almost maddening. Curse the clamouring bells, they seemed to know that
he was listening at the door, and to proclaim it in a crowd of voices to
all the town! Would they never be still?

They ceased at last, and then the silence was so new and terrible that
it seemed the prelude to some dreadful noise. Footsteps in the court!
Two men. He fell back from the door on tiptoe, as if they could have
seen him through its wooden panels.

They passed on, talking (he could make out) about a skeleton which had
been dug up yesterday, in some work of excavation near at hand, and was
supposed to be that of a murdered man. 'So murder is not always found
out, you see,' they said to one another as they turned the corner.

Hush!

He put the key into the lock, and turned it. The door resisted for a
while, but soon came stiffly open; mingling with the sense of fever in
his mouth, a taste of rust, and dust, and earth, and rotting wood. He
looked out; passed out; locked it after him.

All was clear and quiet, as he fled away.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CONCLUSION OF THE ENTERPRISE OF MR JONAS AND HIS FRIEND

Did no men passing through the dim streets shrink without knowing why,
when he came stealing up behind them? As he glided on, had no child in
its sleep an indistinct perception of a guilty shadow falling on its
bed, that troubled its innocent rest? Did no dog howl, and strive to
break its rattling chain, that it might tear him; no burrowing rat,
scenting the work he had in hand, essay to gnaw a passage after him,
that it might hold a greedy revel at the feast of his providing? When he
looked back, across his shoulder, was it to see if his quick footsteps
still fell dry upon the dusty pavement, or were already moist and
clogged with the red mire that stained the naked feet of Cain!

He shaped his course for the main western road, and soon reached it;
riding a part of the way, then alighting and walking on again. He
travelled for a considerable distance upon the roof of a stage-coach,
which came up while he was afoot; and when it turned out of his road,
bribed the driver of a return post-chaise to take him on with him; and
t