. Snow was falling still, so that Colliver's footprints were
entirely obliterated. But I wanted them no longer. He would be at
Paddington, I knew; and accordingly I turned my feet in that
direction, and walked rapidly westward.

My chase had begun. I had before me plenty of time in which to reach
Paddington, and the exercise of walking did me good, relaxing my
stiffened limbs until at length I scarcely felt the pain of the weals
where the cords had cut me. It was snowing persistently, but I
hardly noticed it. Through the chill and sullen morning I held
doggedly on my way, past St. Katharine's Wharf, the Tower, through
Gracechurch Street, and out into St. Paul's Churchyard. Traffic was
already beginning here, and thickened as I passed down Ludgate Hill
and climbed up to Holborn. Already the white snow was being churned
and trodden into hideous slush in which my feet slipped and stumbled.
My coat and sailor's cap were covered with powdery flakes, and I had
to hold my head down for fear lest the drifting moisture should wash
any of the colouring off my face. So my feet carried me once more
into Oxford Street. How well remembered was every house, every
lamp-post, every flag of the pavement almost! I was on my last quest
now.

"To-night! to-night!" whispered my heart: then came back the words of
Claire's mother--"Kill him! Kill him!" and still I tramped westward,
as westward lay my revenge.

Suddenly a hansom cab shot past me. It came up silently on the
slushy street, and it was only when it was close behind that I heard
the muffled sound of its wheels. It was early yet for cabs, so that
I turned my head at the sound. It passed in a flash, and gave me but
a glimpse of the occupant: but in that moment I had time to catch
sight of a pair of eyes, and knew now that my journey would not be in
vain. They were the eyes of Simon Colliver.

So then in Oxford Street, after all, I had met him. He was cleverly
disguised--as I guessed, by the same hands that had painted my own
face--and looked to the casual eye but an ordinary bagman. But art
could not change those marvellous eyes, and I knew him in an instant.
My heart leapt wildly for a moment--my hands were clenched and my
teeth shut tight; but the next, I was plodding after him as before.
I could wait now.

Before I reached Paddington I met the cab returning empty, and on
gaining the station at first saw nothing of my man. Though as yet it
was early, the pla