It was also curiosity, for the magistrate's face, as he passed Lovel's hiding-place, was distraught and melancholy.

Here was another man with bitter thoughts--perhaps with a deadly secret.

For a moment the spy felt a certain kinship.
Whatever the reason he let the morning go by.

About two in the afternoon Godfrey left the fields and struck westward by a bridle-path that led through the Paddington Woods to the marshes north of Kensington.

He walked slowly, but with an apparent purpose.