Having settled the hash of jovial Captain Robinson, we now proceed to the pleasant task of measuring out justice to others.
Messieurs Murray and Chivey are the persons we mean.
Those gentlemen, having taken such excellent precautions to cut off young Jack Harkaway's communications with the outer world, fancied themselves tolerably safe.
Yet every now and then Murray's nerves were shaken as he thought of the vindictive Lenoir.
What had become of that dangerous individual?
The police had gone to the spot where Murray told them he had left the coiner senseless, and there they certainly found traces of a severe struggle, but Lenoir had disappeared.
The peasant also had done his duty as a French citizen by reporting the affair to the first gendarme he met on his road.
But though Marseilles was thoroughly searched, no trace of the man could be found, either in the town or the surrounding rural districts.
"There's one consolation, guv'nor," observed Chivey, "he won't dare show his ugly mug in Marseilles any more, so you're safe enough here."
"He's desperate enough for any thing."