Mr Shaw, as he was apparently known there, was dressed very different from the occasion when we had met at Totnes. Then he had assumed the appearance of a racing man, but in his guise of country gentleman he was dressed in morning-coat of a rather old-fashioned cut, and pepper-and-salt trousers, an attire which gave him a quiet and somewhat distinguished appearance. I sat before him, wondering at his remarkable dual personality--the man hunted by the police, and the wealthy occupier of that fine country mansion. His small, shrewd eyes seemed to realise the trend of my thoughts as he lounged back in his chair near the window, regarding me lazily. "I promised, Mr Kemball, that I would see you again as soon as opportunity offered," he said; "and feeling assured of the spirit of good fellowship existing between us, I have this afternoon let you into the secret of my double life. That evening at Exeter I had a very narrow squeak of it--by Gad! one of the narrowest in all my life. An enemy--one whom I had believed to be my friend--gave me completely away. The police evidently expected to find me through you, for you were watched constantly. Everywhere you went you were followed." "You know that?" "I do," he said. "The fact is I have a personal guardian who constantly watches over me, and warns me of danger. You saw him on his cycle at Lathbury. He watched you while I was absent in France shaking off those bloodhounds of the law." "And you have now shaken them off, I presume?" "I think so. Scotland Yard has, happily, never yet associated Harvey Shaw, Justice of the Peace for the County of Rutland, and one of the visiting justices of Oakham Gaol, with Alfred Dawnay, alias Day, whom they are so very eager to arrest," and he laughed grimly. "Mine is an amusing situation, I assure you, to sit on the Bench and try prisoners, well knowing that each police-officer who appears as witness would, if he knew, be only too eager to execute the warrant outstanding." And his broad, good-humoured face again expanded into a smile. "Certainly. I quite see the grim humour of the situation," I said. "And if you had not assisted me, Mr Kemball, I should, at this moment, have been under detention in His Majesty's prison at Brixton," he said. "By the way, I have to return the suit of clothes you so very kindly lent to me. My man has them upstairs ready packed. I shall send them to you by parcel-post. Gates was, I think, rather surprised to find another man's clothes among my kit. But fortunately he's used to my idiosyncrasies, and regards them as mere eccentricities on the part of his master. But he is always discreet. He's been with me these ten years." "How long have you lived here, Mr--er--" "Shaw here," he interrupted quickly. "Mr Shaw. How long have you lived here? I thought the place belonged to Lord Wyville?"