from justice.

As they drew near to the bridge they stopped once more, and Jeffreys,
peering through the darkness, saw a form clutching the railings, and
looking down in the direction of the water. Then a voice groaned, "Oh
my God!" and the footsteps hurried on.

Jeffreys had seen misery in many forms go past him before, but something
impelled him now to rise and follow the footsteps of this wanderer.

The plashing rain drowned every sound, and it was with difficulty that
Jeffreys, weak and weary as he was, could keep pace with the figure
flitting before him, for after that glance over the bridge the fugitive
no longer halted in his pace, but went on rapidly.

Across the bridge he turned and followed the high banks of the canal.
Then he halted, apparently looking for a way down. It was a long
impatient search, but at last Jeffreys saw him descend along some
railings which sloped down the steep grass slope almost to the towing-
path.

Jeffreys followed with difficulty, and when at last he stood on the
towing-path the fugitive was not to be seen, nor was it possible to say
whether he had turned right or left.

Jeffreys turned to the right, and anxiously scanning both the bank and
the water, tramped along the muddy path.

A few yards down he came upon a heap of stones piled up across the path.
Any one clambering across this must have made noise enough to be heard
twenty yards away, and, as far as he could judge in the darkness, no one
had stepped upon it. He therefore turned back hurriedly and retraced
his steps.

The sullen water, hissing still under the heavy rain, gave no sign as he
ran along its edge and scanned it with anxious eyes.

The high bank on his left, beyond the palings, became inaccessible from
below. The wanderer must, therefore, be before him on the path.

For five minutes he ran on, straining his eyes and ears, when suddenly
he stumbled. It was a hat upon the path.

In a moment Jeffreys dived into the cold water. As he came to the
surface and looked round there was nothing but the spreading circles of
his own plunge to be seen; but a moment afterwards, close to the bank,
he had a glimpse of something black rising for an instant and then
disappearing. Three strokes brought him to the spot just as the object
rose again.

To seize it and strike out for the bank was the work of a moment. The
man--for it was he--was alive, and as Jeffreys slowly drew him from the
water he opened his eyes