They had the satisfaction of finding that they gained upon the robber, who had, unfortunately for him, injured one of his ankles in dropping from the tree. Had this not been the case the chances would have been all in his favour. Peace and Mr. Wrench found they were gaining rapidly on the robber. This acted as an incentive for them to put forth their energies to the fullest extent. Beyond the fields which the fugitive was new traversing was a narrow stream――a small river. This, although possibly he did not know at the time, would form a barrier to his progress. Peace ran better perhaps than he had ever done in his life, and this is saying a great deal. He was far ahead of the detective, who was by this time winded, and was within from twenty to five-and-twenty paces of the robber, who had now come close to the river. His capture seemed inevitable; but being well-nigh driven to desperation, he made a flying leap, and plunged into the stream just as Peace had made sure of seizing him. The thief was evidently an expert swimmer. He struck out and made for the opposite shore. “Curse him! he’ll get clear off after all,” shrieked out the detective, in an agony of despair. “Can you swim?” “No, I can’t, and I don’t intend to try,” returned Peace. “Can you?” “A little, but not well enough to venture with my clothes on in a running stream like this.” “Then wait till he reaches the opposite bank,” cried our hero, levelling his pistol. The robber now got into shallow water, through which he waded as quick as possible. Peace fired and wounded the fugitive, who staggered, but had sufficient strength left to run behind a large granary in the opposite meadow, which sheltered him from any further discharge from the revolver. “He’s wounded and wet to the skin. He can’t run far. I’ll after him,” exclaimed our hero, who made for a small wooden bridge, situated at about sixty or seventy yards from where he stood. He reached the bridge in the space of a minute or two, passed over it, and gained the field beyond. He then ran towards the granary. All this had been done so rapidly that Mr. Wrench did not very well know what his more active companion was endeavouring to compass. The wooden bridge was concealed by a dense mass of foliage, and Mr. Wrench did not know of its existence. He was therefore greatly surprised at seeing Peace run rapidly across the opposite meadow, and stood watching his movements with the deepest anxiety. The robber was equally surprised at beholding Peace. Seeing his danger he once more took to his heels. “If you don’t stop I’ll shoot you down like a dog,” shouted out his pursuer, in a voice of thunder. “You can’t escape. Yield, and save your life while you have a chance.” “I know that voice,” cried the man. “Don’t fire, old fellow. I’m cornered, and give in.” Peace rushed forward and collared the speaker. “Don’t you know me?” said the man. “Why, hang me if it isn’t the gipsy.”