one. The very
uncertainty which there was, tempted the squire to disregard the
possibility of Goddard's death as compared with the importance of his
capture. It was quite likely, he unconsciously argued, that the
bloodhound would not kill him after all; it was even possible that he
might not find him; but it would be worth while to make the attempt, for
the results to be obtained by catching the fugitive were very great--Mrs.
Goddard's peace was to be considered before all things. But still before
the squire's eyes arose the picture of Stamboul tearing the throat of the
man he had killed in the Belgrade forest. If he killed the felon, Juxon
would know that to all intents and purposes he had himself done the deed
in order to marry Mrs. Goddard. But still the thought remained with him
and would not leave him.

The fellow had threatened his own life. It was then a fair fight,
for a man cannot be blamed if he tries to get the better of one who is
going about to kill him. On one of his many voyages, he had once shot a
man in order to quell a mutiny; he had not killed him it is true, but
he had disabled him for the time--he had handled many a rough customer
in his day. The case, he thought, was similar, for it was the case of
self-defence. The law, even, would say he was justified. But to slay a
man in self-defence and then to marry his widow, though justifiable in
law, is a very delicate case for the conscience; and in spite of the
wandering life he had led, Mr. Juxon's conscience was sensitive. He was
an honest man and a gentleman, he had tried all his life to do right as
he saw it, and did not mean to turn murderer now, no matter how easy it
would be for him to defend his action.

At the end of an hour he had decided that it would be murder, and no
less, to let Stamboul track Goddard to his hiding-place. The hound might
accompany him in his walks, and if anybody attacked him it would be so
much the worse for his assailant. Murder or no murder, he was entitled to
take any precautions he pleased against an assault. But he would not
willingly put the bloodhound on the scent, and he knew well enough that
the dog would not run upon a strange trail unless he were put to it.
The squire went to his lunch, feeling that he had made a good resolution;
but he ate little and soon afterwards began to feel the need of going
down to see Mrs. Goddard. No day was complete without seeing her, and
considering the circumstances which had occ