“No, sir—but there’s a hundred pounds reward offered for him, and bills are being stuck all over London, and within ten miles, with a description of him.” “Indeed,” said Gray, a violent trembling coming over him. “I am glad I am so well armed, that I hold several men’s lives in my power; so, you see, should I meet him, I am safe from him.” The man again went back a few paces upon hearing this declaration, and said with an appearance of fright,— “Certainly, sir—oh—of course, good morning, sir.” “Good morning,” said Gray. In a moment the man turned, and walk downed the hill at a pace which Jacob Gray could see he was momentarily increasing, as he placed a greater distance between them. “He suspects me! He suspects me!” gasped Gray. “He has only gone to get assistance to capture me. Whither can I now fly? I can purchase no more safety, for I am penniless. Die I dare not—must I be taken—oh, horror—horror! The scaffold dances before my eyes, and I seem even now to hear the shouts of the multitude as I am dragged out to die.” He shook for several moments fearfully, then with blanched lips and tottering limbs, he rose and approached the tree on which was posted the placard. For a minute or more, the letter seemed to dance before his bewildered gaze, and he could read nothing but the one word “Murder,” which appeared as it were to stand out from the paper with a supernatural distinctness. Gradually, however, this nervous delusion vanished, and the letters arranged themselves like living things in their proper places. Jacob Gray then read the bill, which offered a reward of one hundred pounds to any one who would apprehend and lodge in any gaol the perpetrator of the murder. The placard then went on to give but an imperfect description of Gray’s person, and concluded by the name of one of the magistrates of the metropolis. There were two things that surprised Gray in this placard. One was, that his name was not mentioned, and the other was, that no reference was made to any other real or supposed crime than the murder of the man Vaughan, in the court leading from the Strand. Through Ada, who had so fearlessly denounced him, he had made sure that his name would become public, and that his other crime of recent date, namely, the murder of the officer Elias, in the house at Battersea, would have become known, and form as direct and distinct a charge against him as that of Vaughan, which was the least criminal act of the two. Moreover, Sir Francis Hartleton’s name did not appear to the document, which was as great a surprise to Gray as anything, for he conjectured that to him, Ada would make her first appeal for protection. Altogether the bill tormented and puzzled Jacob Gray, and he continued gazing at it, until again the letters danced before his fevered brain, and calm reflection became lost in a whirl of contending fears. CHAPTER LXIII. Gray’s Proceedings.—A Narrow Escape.—The Night Visit to Learmont.