"Well, at any rate you're better off now, and as to freedom—well, we can cry quits as to that," I said. "Here's some more money for you, all I can spare. I'll wish you good-night."
"'Arf a mo'—'arf a mo'!" he cried, catching at my sleeve and detaining me. "Do yer fink I'm goin' to let yer go like that? W'y, there's lots of fings wants explainin'. 'Ow do you come to be walkin' at large like this 'ere, after they've tolled the bloomin' bell for yer at Pent'ouse?"
"I can't explain everything to you; it would take too long," I said. "Suffice it that I've found friends who have helped me; there was another man buried in my place. And now, Mr. George Rabbit," I added fiercely, "you'll please to understand that Norton Hyde, convict, lies buried in a certain grave you know of, and quite another man has given you money to-night. Get that into your thick head, and once more 'good-night' to you."
I turned away abruptly to resume my walk. After all, I felt that I was pretty safe; such a shifty, shambling creature as this would only be regarded as a madman if he told any tale about me, especially any tale that would seem as absurd as this one of a man alive that should properly be dead. So I strode away, whistling.
But after a moment or two, glancing furtively over my shoulder, I saw that he was following, coming along on the other side of the road at a sort of hobbling trot that carried him over the ground as fast as my longer stride. I stopped, and looked back at him; and in a moment he stopped too, and waited.
"You'd better go back," I called across to him threateningly, but he did not answer.
On I went again, and once more, as I glanced over my shoulder, I saw him coming along in the same way, like a grim Fate that would not be shaken off. I had just made up my mind to try conclusions with him in the shape of personal violence, and had stopped with that purpose in my mind, when a voice broke in out of the darkness that startled me even more than it could have startled Mr. Rabbit.
"Is that man following you, sir?"
It was a constable, standing in the shadow of a doorway, and he had evidently been watching our approach. I knew by the fact that George Rabbit stood his ground, and even edged a little nearer, that he felt he had nothing to fear; while, for my part, the mere sight of the uniformed constable, coming at that juncture, had thrown me into such a sweat of terror that I could scarcely speak. However, I managed to jerk out some words which were perhaps the most stupid I could have used, because I doubt not that had I braved the matter out, George Rabbit would have taken to his heels, and so have left me in peace. But my words only strengthened whatever ties the man meant to bind me with.
"It's all right, constable," I blurted out; "the man's a friend of mine in—in reduced circumstances. I'm going to find him a lodging."