He had run for but a few moments in his absurd and horrible greatcoat and on his naked feet, until he saw down the end of an alley a great gate, a light to one side of it, and beyond it an empty space of glimmering nightly sky. Ignorant of where he was or what he did, but determined upon safety, he looked round and to his horror saw the form of yet another policeman pacing slowly towards the place where he was crouching. That determined him. With an agility that none of his acquaintances, not even his wife, would have believed to be in him, he slunk quite close to earth in the shadow of the great gate and entered the open space beyond. Such a space he had never seen. Under the very faint light which was now beginning to show over the east of heaven, he guessed that he was upon the river, for he saw masts against the sky and that peculiar pale glint of water which, even at night, may be distinguished between the hulls of ships. All he sought was shadow, and the great wharves of the docks--for he had blundered into the docks--give ample opportunity. He heard a measured step pacing slowly towards him. He crept along the edge of the quay into a sort of narrow lane that lay between a row of high barrels and the bulwarks of a big steamship which just showed above the stone. He flattened himself against the high barrels which, had he been better acquainted with the details of commerce, he would have known to contain fishbone manure. The measured tread came nearer; it passed, it reached a certain point in the distance, it turned and passed again. It reached yet another extreme of its beat, turned and re-passed.... And all the while the light was growing: and as it grew the nervous agony of George Mulross grew with it, but more rapidly. He could now just see the figure of the watchman near the gate, he could distinguish part of the nearer rigging; in half an hour he would be visible to whatever eyes were watching for vagabonds. He knew what that meant; further humiliation, perhaps further dangers. There was not a gentleman for miles,--and with that thought the heart of this most unfortunate of gentlemen beat slow. The reader has been sufficiently told that Mr. Demaine, however solid the quality of his brain, was not a man of rapid decision. But agony and peril are sharp spurs, and as the conception of a gentleman floated through his mind he suddenly remembered that ships had captains.