denied any knowledge of Goddard's whereabouts on the previous day as
compared with his reluctance to answer upon those points of which he was
certain.

"You are not anxious that Goddard should be caught," said the squire
rather sharply.

"Frankly," returned the vicar, "I do not wish to be instrumental in his
capture--not that I am likely to be."

"That is none of my business, Mr. Ambrose. I will try and catch him
alone. But it would be better that he should be taken alive and
quietly--"

"Surely," cried the vicar in great alarm, "you would not kill him?"

"Oh no, certainly not. But my dog might, Mr. Ambrose. They are ugly dogs
when they are angry, and they have a remarkable faculty for finding
people who are lost. They used to use them in Russia for tracking
fugitive serfs and convicts who escaped from Siberia."

Mr. Ambrose shuddered. The honest squire seemed almost as bloodthirsty in
his eyes as the convict Goddard. He felt that he did not understand Mr.
Juxon. The idea of hunting people with bloodhounds seemed utterly foreign
to his English nature, and he could not understand how his English friend
could entertain such a thought; he probably forgot that a few generations
earlier the hunting of all kinds of men, papists, dissenters, covenanters
and rebels, with dogs, had been a favourite English sport.

"Really, Mr. Juxon," he said in an agitated tone, "I think you would do
much better to protect yourself with the means provided by the law.
Considerations of humanity--"

"Considerations of humanity, sir, are at an end when one man threatens
the life of another. You admit yourself that I am not safe unless Goddard
is caught, and yet you object to my method of catching him. That is
illogical."

The vicar felt that this was to some extent true; but he was not willing
to admit it. He knew also that if he could dissuade the squire from his
barbarous scheme, Goddard would have a far better chance of escape.

"I think that with the assistance of Gall and a London detective--" he
began.

"Gall is an old woman, Mr. Ambrose, and it will take twenty-four hours to
get a detective from town. In twenty-four hours this man may have
attacked me."

"He will hardly attempt to force his way into your house, Mr. Juxon."

"So then, I am to stay at home to suit his convenience? I will not do any
such thing. Besides, in twenty-four hours Goddard may have changed his
mind and may have taken himself off. For the rest of her l