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robably my proceedings had left them more than ever convinced that I was the miscreant they were in search of. Which was charming for me!
From one point of view the position might be regarded as amusing. It was not an aspect which would appeal to me. I did not know of what offence I had been guilty; I had a hazy notion that it was an offence to resist arrest, and I certainly had knocked a policeman over. Possibly one of those constables had had a good look at me, my description might be circulated; although my return to the garb of civilisation must have made a considerable difference in my appearance, I still might be recognised; if I were, heaven only knew what might happen. As I leaned back in that taxi-cab it struck me forcibly that the sooner I was out of England the better it might be. I have always had a horror of being mixed up with the police, no matter how. It comforted me to reflect that I should be out of England in less than four-and-twenty hours. "Assassin" indeed! I did not want to have such a word associated with the name of Hugh Beckwith, even if it were only for half an hour. At the best folks might regard it as a first-rate joke, and one of which I should never hear the last for the rest of my life.
I dismissed that second cab in Highbury, strolled again, and got into a third. In that I drove home. It is a long way from Highbury New Park to Fulham Palace Road. I do not pretend to be a hero; I am merely a clerk in the dried fruit trade, who only wishes to be allowed to make an honest livelihood in peace. By the time I had reached home I had worked myself into a state of nervous agitation which I am quite willing to admit was absurd. As we passed through Walham Green I saw on the pavement or thought I saw the sandy-haired villain who had robbed me of my clothes. I confess that I nearly fainted. I dared not look out of the window to make sure for fear he should see me. The thought that after all he might be tracking me was dreadful. When we got into Grove Gardens and stopped in front
