"I am not exactly wanting in tact," said Trent annoyed, "and----" He stopped at hearing a shout outside the inn, and Elspeth had only time to glide away from the door and back to the tap-room, before the alert Inspector was at the front door. Just as he was about to open it, Mrs. Narby entered with a rush, hugging in her arms a bundle of cloth. "I've got it--I've got it," she shouted. "Got Herries?" asked Trent sharply. "The fur coat," shouted Mrs. Narby, who was red and perspiring, and threw down the coat on the floor. "See--the fur coat--sables, as I'm a living woman. That cove es parsed out wore it." "Sir Simon's coat," said Trent. "What do you think of this, doctor?" "Much the same as I did before," replied Browne, tartly. "The assassin wore this coat to facilitate his escape, and flung it away to prevent discovery!" CHAPTER VI THE CARAVAN All search for the escaped criminal proved vain. Herries had vanished as completely as though the earth had swallowed him up, after the fashion of Korah, Dathan and Abiram. Apparently, he had noted the departure of the amateur guards from their post below the window, and had seized the chance of getting away unobserved. Certainly he did not know the neighbourhood and, in that treacherous marsh-land, ran every chance of missing his way in the fogs, to fall into some water-hole. But it was better--at least the accused man appeared to have thought so--to risk even so stifling a death, rather than face the more judicial and merciful one of the gallows. Herries had chosen to fall into the hands of God, who knew his innocence, rather than into the hands of man, who judged him guilty before trial. But be this as it may, it was certain that he was gone, for although every square inch of land in and around Desleigh village was minutely examined, nothing could be found likely to afford a clue to his hiding-place--perhaps to his grave. Many of the rustics returned to the "Marsh Inn" swearing that the man must be dead. "In them fogs, and with them dratted water-holes, and him knawing nothing," said the yokels, each and severally, "he be dead, surely." Trent did not agree with popular opinion. "Herries was half a sailor, and accustomed to fogs," he argued to Browne, "in some way he could take care of his skin, and would not run away to meet death." "He ran away to escape death," replied Browne dryly. "However, should he come to me, I shall certainly persuade him to surrender." "The man would be doubly a fool to come to you, and then give himself up," said the Inspector energetically. "Not if he is innocent." "His flight looks like innocence." Browne shrugged his shoulders. "Herries evidently lost his head for the moment. When he thinks over things he will return to prove that he has nothing to do with the crime." "I doubt his being such a fool," said Trent gloomily. "You have no idea of his whereabouts, I suppose?" he ended anxiously.