In a cottage in Thring Street, marked "E. Norfolk, E. 58,
Constabulary", Hogarth passed the night, having been arrested the
moment he returned home from the elm.

A few minutes afterwards Margaret, who had found no Frankl at the
towing-path, came home to the ghastliest amazement throughout
Thring, so that sleep overcame the village only toward morning.

At 7.30 A.M. Hogarth was marched to Beccles, then after an inquest-
verdict appeared before the magistrates' court, and was committed.

One of the witnesses in the summary-jurisdiction court had been
Loveday, who had deposed that Hogarth, on leaving the chapel, was,
beyond doubt, in a passion; and mixed with the crowd was Margaret,
who, standing thickly veiled, heard that evidence. And thought she:
"Is it possible that he can be giving evidence against Richard like
that? And smiling, the mean, false thing--"

She had disappeared on the morning after the arrest: and Loveday was
now racked by disquiet, wondering how she was living, though she and
he were in the same train, unconscious of each other, when he
followed Hogarth to Norwich; and, as Margaret stepped upon the
Thorpe platform there, a Jew, who was watching the arrival of every
train, spied and shadowed her to the old Maid's Head, this intricate
city being now crowded, the Assizes all in the air, mixed with the
Saturday cattle-market.

At ten the next morning Margaret learned at the Guildhall the
address of her brother's defending solicitor, and set out to find
him, the wretchedest woman on earth now.