“Hilloa, friend, you rise betimes. I call it over work getting up so early.”
“Yes,” said Gray, “I—I am up soon. I like the cool air of the morning.”
The man looked very earnestly at him, and Gray’s heart sunk within him at the thought that he was about to be recognised and taken. He made one effort to save himself by quietly adding,—
“It’s nothing to me to be in the fields early or late. I am well armed.”
The man stepped back a pace at this intimation, and Gray saw that whether or not the man had any criminal designs against his liberty, he had succeeded in awakening his fears.
“No offence, sir,” he said—“no offence, I hope—I’m a poor fellow, come upon business from Westminister.”
“Oh! From Westminister,” said Gray. Then he paused, and fixed an eager searching glance upon the man, who added,—
“Have you heard of the murder last night, sir, of Mr. Vaughan?”
“No,” said Gray, “I have not been in London for some time, although I have very nearly wandered out of my track.”
A clock at this moment chimed some quarters, and the man said,—