. Speaks broad and loud. Carries his shoulders
stooped, and is of mean appearance.

"WESTON, High Sheriff.
Done at Newgate prison, this 21 July."

Yet though the authorities of the law made full search in London, and
indeed in other of the principal cities of England, they got no word of
the escaped prisoner.

The clouded dawn which broke over the Thames below the Pool might have
told its own story. There sat upon the deck of the good ship Polly
Greenway, outbound from Thames' mouth, this same John Law. He regarded
idly the busy scenes of the shipping about him. His gaze, dull and
listless, looked without joy upon the dawn, without inquiry upon the far
horizon. For the first time in all his life John Law dropped his head
between his hands.

Not so Mary Connynge. "Good sir," cried she, merrily, "'tis morning.
Let's break our fast, and so set forth proper on our voyage."

"So now we are free," said Law, dully. "I could swear there were
shackles on me."

"Yes, we are free," said Mary Connynge, "and all the world is before us.
But saw you ever in all your life a man so dumfounded as was Sir Arthur
when he discovered 'twas I, and not the Lady Catharine, had stepped into
the carriage? That confusion of the carriages was like to have cost us
everything. I know not how your brother made such mistake. He said he
would fetch me home the night. Gemini! It sure seems a long way about!
And where may be your brother now, or Sir Arthur, or the Lady
Catharine--why, 'tis as much confused as though 'twere all in a play!"

"But Sir Arthur cried that my ship was for France. Yet here they tell me
that this brigantine is bound for the mouth of the St. Lawrence, in
America! What then of this other, and what of my brother--what of
us--what of--?"

"Why, I think this," said Mary Connynge, calmly. "That you do very well
to be rid of London jail; and for my own part, 'tis a rare appetite the
salt air ever gives me!"

Upon the same morning tide there was at this very moment just setting
aloft her sails for the first high airs of dawn the ship of McMasters,
the Polly Perkins, bound for the port of Brest.

She came down scarce a half-dozen cable lengths behind the craft which
bore the fugitives now beginning their journey toward another land. Upon
the deck of this ship, even as upon the other, there were those who
waited eagerly for the dawn. There were two men here, Will Law and Sir
Art