ent, Sir Murray determined
to double his precautions, and acting on that determination, he stooped
more and more to the meanness of acting the part of spy.

He would have challenged Norton to meet him again and again, but he told
himself, with a grim smile, that he was a poltroon--as great a coward as
ever breathed--and he felt more bitter than ever against him. It seemed
to Sir Murray that he had been hoaxed--that he had been made the object
of a trick that should for a few hours make him believe in Norton's
death. He could not see that the acting of such a purposeless part
would have been insensate to a degree, and that it was all due to the
strength of his own imagination--an imagination now ever running riot in
its wild theorising.

Norton might have smiled could he have read Sir Murray's heart, in spite
of the anger and pain he would have felt. For his own part, he had, on
reaching the footway of the bridge, stood thoughtful for a few moments,
and then, hearing Sir Murray's voice, had come to the conclusion that
the better plan would be to hurry away, and so avoid an encounter,
feeling sure that his acts would be, in some way or other, misconstrued.
He trusted that it would be supposed he had made his way to a place of
safety; but, at all events, he was determined not to meet the baronet,
and therefore proceeded quickly homewards, little thinking of the
conclusions that would be arrived at, till towards the evening of the
day following, when he recalled the fact that his recognition was
certain in consequence of the clothes he had lost, the result being that
he sent the note above alluded to. The writing of this note involved a
full account to Mrs Norton of the night's adventure, to her great
discomfort, for beyond a bare outline given in explanation of the wet
clothes, Mrs Norton had known little of the state of affairs. By
degrees, though, that day the news of the attempted burglary had reached
the Hall, and Norton comprehended the cause of the cry for help to which
he had so opportunely responded. At the same time, though, he could not
but regret that he had been the instrument called upon to save the men's
lives, the uneasiness brought upon him by the incident being excessive--
an uneasiness fully shared, though in silence, by his wife.

Events in the life of Mr John Gurdon about this time began to succeed
each other with great rapidity. An examination before the county
magistrates resulted in his comm