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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

But in what character had he
followed the assizes? As a simple spectator, as a lawyer's clerk,
as a criminal himself, or--last and worst supposition--as a Bow-
street 'runner'?
The cart would wait for me, perhaps, half a mile down our onward
road, which I was already following. And I told myself that in a
few minutes' walking, Bow-street runner or not, I should have him
at my mercy. And then reflection came to me in time. Of all
things, one was out of the question. Upon no account must this
obtrusive fellow see the cart. Until I had killed or shook him
off, I was quite divorced from my companions--alone, in the midst
of England, on a frosty by-way leading whither I knew not, with a
sleuth-hound at my heels, and never a friend but the holly-stick!
We came at the same time to a crossing of lanes. The branch to the
left was overhung with trees, deeply sunken and dark. Not a ray of
moonlight penetrated its recesses; and I took it at a venture. The
wretch followed my example in silence; and for some time we
crunched together over frozen pools without a word. Then he found
his voice, with a chuckle.
'This is not the way to Mr. Merton's,' said he.
'No?' said I. 'It is mine, however.'
'And therefore mine,' said he.
Again we fell silent; and we may thus have covered half a mile
before the lane, taking a sudden turn, brought us forth again into
the moonshine.


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