Copplestone kicked Vickers under the table and gave him a look. "Chatfield again!" he murmured. "Well, go on, Spurge." "There's a lot to go on with, too, guv'nor," said Spurge, after taking another evidently welcome drink. "And I'll try to put it all in order, as it were--same as if I was in a witness-box," he added, with a sly glance at Vickers. "You remember that day of the inquest on the actor gentleman, guv'nor? Well, of course, when I went to give evidence at Scarhaven, at that there inquest, I never expected but what the police 'ud collar me at the end of it. However, I didn't mean that they should, if I could help it, so I watched things pretty close, intending to slip off when I saw a chance. Well, now, you'll bear in mind that there was a bit of a dust-up when the thing was over--some on 'em cheering the Squire and some on 'em grousing about the verdict, and between one and t'other I popped out and off, and you yourself saw me making for the moors. Of course, me, knowing them moors back o' Scarhaven as I do, it was easy work to make myself scarce on 'em in ten minutes--not all the police north o' the Tees could ha' found me a quarter of an hour after I'd hooked it out o' that schoolroom! Well, but the thing then was--where to go next? 'Twasn't no good going to Hobkin's Hole again--now that them chaps knew I was in the neighbourhood they'd soon ha' smoked me out o' there. Once I thought of making for Norcaster here, and going into hiding down by the docks--I've one or two harbours o' refuge there. But I had reasons for wishing to stop in my own country--for a bit at any rate. And so, after reckoning things up, I made for a spot as Mr. Vickers there'll know by name of the Reaver's Glen." "Good place, too, for hiding," remarked Vickers with a nod.