On learning that Toole was about making a call there, Lowe gave his bridle to a little Chapelizod ragamuffin, and, dismounting, accompanied the doctor. Mrs. Nutter was in her bed.
'Make my service to your mistress,' said Toole, 'and say I'll look in on her in five minutes, if she'll admit me.' And Lowe and the doctor walked on to the garden, and so side by side down to the river's bank.
'Hey!—look at that,' said Toole, with a start, in a hard whisper; and he squeezed Lowe's arm very hard, and looked as if he saw a snake.
It was the impression in the mud of the same peculiar foot-print they had tracked so far in the park. There was a considerable pause, during which Lowe stooped down to examine the details of the footmark.
'Hang it—you know—poor Mrs. Nutter—eh?' said Toole, and hesitated.
'We must make a note of that—the thing's important,' said Mr. Lowe, sternly fixing his gray eye upon Toole.
'Certainly, Sir,' said the doctor, bridling; 'I should not like to be the man to hit him—you know; but it is remarkable—and, curse it, Sir, if called on, I'll speak the truth as straight as you, Sir—every bit, Sir.'
And he added an oath, and looked very red and heated.
The magistrate opened his pocket-book, took forth the pattern sole, carefully superimposed it, called Toole's attention, and said—
'You see.'