“Hy! mister!”

He went feebly on, and did not seem to hear; then they hailed him again and ran toward him; then he turned and stopped, and seeing men running toward him, took out a large pair of round spectacles, and put them on to look at them.  By this artifice that which in reality completed his disguise seemed but a natural movement in an old man to see better who it was that wanted him.

“What be you doing here?” said the man.

“Well, my good man,” said Monckton, affecting surprise, “I have been visiting an old friend, and now I’m going home again.  I hope I am not trespassing.  Is not this the way to the village?  They told me it was.”

“That’s right enough,” said the deputy, “but by the way you come you just have seen him.”

“No, sir,” said Monckton, “I haven’t seen anybody except one gentleman, that came through that wood there as I passed it.”

“What was he like, sir?”

“Well, I didn’t take particular notice, and he passed me all in a hurry.”

“That would be the man,” said the deputy.  “Had he a very pale face?”

“Not that I remarked; he seemed rather heated with running.”

“How was he dressed, sir?”

“Oh, like many of the young people, all of one pattern.”

“Light or dark?”

“Light, I think.”

“Was it a tweed suit?”

“I almost think it was.  What had he been doing—­anything wrong?  He seemed to me to be rather scared-like.”

“Which way did he go, sir?”

“I think he made for that great house, sir.”

“Come on,” said the deputy, and he followed this treacherous indication, hot in pursuit.

Monckton lost no time.  He took off twenty years, and reached the Dun Cow as an old acquaintance.  He hired the one vehicle the establishment possessed, and was off like a shot to Derby; thence he dispatched a note to his lodgings to say he was suddenly called to town, but should be back in a week.  Not that he ever intended to show his face in that neighborhood again.

Nevertheless events occasioned that stopped both his flight and
Bartley’s, and yet broke up their unholy alliance.

It was Hope’s final inspection of the Bartley mine, and he took things in order.  Months ago a second shaft had been sunk by his wise instructions, and but for Bartley’s parsimony would have been now completed.  Hope now ascertained how many feet it was short, and noted this down for Bartley.

Then, still inspecting, he went to the other extremity of the mine, and reached a sort of hall or amphitheatre much higher than the passages.  This was a centre with diverging passages on one side, but closed on the other.  Two of these passages led by oblique routes to those old works, the shoring of which had been reported unsafe.