Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. "When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. I followed you home on the train. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes.
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