only tell you--make you see what I have seen--Even now, O God! though half
a century has run its course--"

Here Mr. Fortescue's voice failed him; he turned deadly pale, and his
countenance took an expression of the keenest anguish. But the signs of
emotion passed away as quickly as they had appeared. Another moment and he
had fully regained his composure, and he added, in his usual
self-possessed manner:

"All this must seem very strange to you, Mr. Bacon. I suppose you consider
me somewhat of a mystery."

"Not somewhat, but very much."

Mr. Fortescue smiled (he never laughed) and reflected a moment.

"I am thinking," he said, "how strangely things come about, and, so to
speak, hang together. The greatest of all mysteries is fate. If that horse
had not run away with you, these rascals would almost certainly have made
away with me; and the incident of to-day is one of the consequences of
that which I mentioned at our first interview."

"When we had that good run from Latton. I remember it very well. You said
you had been hunted yourself."

"Yes."

"How was it, Mr. Fortescue?"

"Ah! Thereby hangs a tale."