He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. ‘Typical. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. " "Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling towards him. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Give me your thorough-paced villain. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer.
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