I had purposely chosen the by-lanes of the town, but I remembered a certain tavern—­the “Lamb and Flag”—­which lay down a side alley.  Presently the light from its windows struck across the street, ahead.  I pushed open the door and entered.

The small bar was full of people newly come from the court, and discussing the trial in all its bearings.  In the babel I heard a dozen different opinions given in as many seconds, and learnt enough, too, to make me content with the jury I had had.  But the warmth of the place was pleasant, and I elbowed my way forward to the counter.

There was a woman standing by the door as I entered, who looked curiously at me for a moment, then turned to nudge a man at her side, and whisper.  The whisper grew as I pressed forward, and before I could reach the counter a hand was laid on my shoulder from behind.  I turned.

“Well?” said I.

It was a heavy-looking drover that had touched me.

“Are you the chap that was tried to-day for murder of Jeweller Todd?” he asked.

“Well?” said I again, but I could see the crowd falling back, as if I was a leper, at his question.

“Well?  ’Taint well then, as I reckon, to be making so free with respectable folk.”

There was a murmur of assent from the mouths turned towards me.  The landlord came forward from behind the bar.

“I was acquitted,” I urged defiantly.

“Ac-quitted!” said he, with big scorn in the syllables.  “Hear im now—­’ac-quitted!’ Landlord, is this a respectable house?”

The landlord gave his verdict.

“H’out yer goes, and damn yer impudence!”

I looked round, but their faces were all dead against me.

“H’out yer goes!” repeated the landlord.  “And think yerself lucky it aint worse,” added the drover.

With no further defence I slunk out into the night once more.

A small crowd of children (Heaven knows whence or how they gathered) followed me up the court and out into the street.  Their numbers swelled as I went on, and some began to hoot and pelt me; but when I gained the top of the hill, and a lonelier district, I turned and struck among them with my stick.  It did my heart good to hear their screams.

After that I was let alone, and tramped forward past the scattered houses, towards the open country and the moors.  Up here there was scarcely any fog, but I could see it, by the rising moon, hanging like a shroud over the town below.  The next town was near upon twelve miles off, but I do not remember that I thought of getting so far.  I could not have thought at all, in fact, or I should hardly have taken the high-road upon which the jeweller had been stopped and murdered.

There was a shrewd wind blowing, and I shivered all over; but the cold at my heart was worse, and my hate of the man who had set it there grew with every step.  I thought of the four months and more which parted the two lives of Gabriel Foot, and what I should make of the new one.  I had my chance again—­a chance gained for me beyond hope by that counsel but for whom I should be sleeping to-night in the condemned cell; a chance, and a good chance, but for that same cursed lawyer.  Ugh! how cold it was, and how I hated him for it!