darted out and scoured the town; he asked
everybody if they had seen a tall gentleman
dressed like a common sailor: nobody could tell
him: there were so many sailors about the port;
that which in an inland town would have
betrayed the truant concealed him here. A cold
perspiration began to gather on Alfred's brow,
as he ran wildly all over the place.

He could not find him, nor any trace of him.
At last it struck him that he had originally
proposed to go to Dover, and had spoken of
that town to David, though he had now glanced
aside, making for the smaller ports on the south
coast: he hired a horse directly, and galloped
furiously to Dover. He rode down to the pier,
gave his horse to a boy to hold, and ran about
inquiring for David. He could not find him:
but at last he found a policeman, who told him
he thought there was another party on the same
lay as himself: "No," said the man, correcting
himself, "it was two they were after, a gentleman
and a sailor. Perhaps you are his mate."

Alfred's blood ran cold. "Pursued! and so
hotly!"

"No, no," he stammered; "I suspect I am
on the same business." Then he said cunningly
(for asylums teach the frankest natures cunning),
"Come and have a glass of grog and tell me all
about it." Bobby consented, and under its
influence described Mrs. Dodd and her companions
to him.

But not everybody can describe minutely. In
the bare outlines, which were all this artist could
furnish him, Alfred recognised at once whom do
you think? Mrs. Archbold, Dr. Wolf, and his
arch enemy Rooke, the keeper. Doubtless his
own mind, seizing on so vague a description,
adapted it rather hastily to what seemed probable.
Mrs. Dodd never occurred to him, nor that David
was the sole, or even the main, object of the
pursuit. He was thoroughly puzzled what to do.
However, as his pursuers had clearly scoured
Dover, and would have found David if there, he
made use of their labours and galloped back
towards Folkestone. But he took the precaution
to inquire at the first turnpike, and there he
learned a lady and two men had passed through
about an hour before in a dog-cart, it was a
wonder he had missed them. Alfred gnashed his
teeth; "Curse you," he muttered. "Well, do
my work in Folkestone, I'll find him yet, and
baffle you." He turned his horse's head
westward and rode after David. Convinced that his
lost friend would not go inland, he took care to
keep near the cliffs, and had ever an eye on the
beach when the road came near enough.

About eight miles west of Folkestone he saw
a dog-cart going down a hill before him: but
there was only a single person in it. However,
he increased his pace and got close behind it as
it mounted the succeeding hill, which was a high
one. Walking leisurely behind it his quick eye
caught sight of a lady's veil wrapped round the
iron of the seat.

That made him instantly suspect this might be
the dog-cart after all. But, if so, how came a
stranger in it? He despised a single foe, and
resolved to pump this one and learn where the
others were.

While he was thinking how he should begin
the dog-cart stopped at the top of the hill, and
the driver looked seaward at some object that
appeared to interest him.

It was a glorious scene. Viewed from so great
a height the sea expanded like ocean, and its
light blue waters sparkled and laughed innumerable
in the breeze. "A beautiful sight, sir,"
said the escaped prisoner, "you may well stop to
look at it." The man touched his hat and
chuckled. "I don't think you know what I am
looking at, sir," he said politely.

"I thought it was the lovely sea view; so
bright, so broad, so free."

"No, sir; not but what I can enjoy that a bit,
too: but what I'm looking at is an 'unt. Do you
see that little boat? Sailing right down the
coast about eight miles off. Well, sir, what do
you think there is in that boat? But you'll
never guess. A madman."

"Ah!"

"Curious, sir, isn't it: a respectable gentleman
too he is, and sails well; only stark, staring,
mad. There was two of 'em in company: but it
seems they can't keep together long. Our one
steals a fisherman's boat, and there he goes
down channel. And now look here sir; see this
steam-tug smoking along right in front of us:
she's after him, and see there's my governor
aboard standing by the wheel with a Bobby and
a lady: and if ever there was a lady she's
one;" here he lowered his voice. "She's that
mad gentleman's wife, sir, as I am a living
sinner."

They both looked down on the strange chase
in silence. "Will they catch her?" asked
Alfred at last, under his breath.

"How can we be off it? steam against sails.
And if he runs ashore, I shall be there to nab
him." Alfred looked, and looked: the water
came into his eyes. "It's the best thing that
can befal him now," he murmured. He gave
the man half-a-crown, and then turned his horse's
head and walked him down the hill towards
Folkestone. On his arrival there he paid for his
horse, and his untasted dinner, and took the first
train to London, a little dispirited; and a good
deal mortified; for he hated to be beat: but
David was in good hands, that was one comfort:
and he had glorious work on hand, love and
justice. He went to an out of the way inn in
the suburbs, and, when he had bought a carpet-
bag and some linen and other necessaries, he
had but one sovereign left.

His heart urged him vehemently to go at once
and find his Julia: but alas! he did not even
know where she lived; and he dared not at
present make public inquiries: that would draw
attention to himself, and be his destruction; for
Wolf stood well with the police, and nearly
always recaptured his truant patients by their