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Updated: June 27, 2025


Gawtrey threw another log on the fire, looked complacently round the comfortable room, and rubbed his hands. The young man continued, "'You should be ashamed of yourself I've a great mind to give you to the police, was the answer, in a pert and sharp tone. I looked up, and saw the livery my father's menials had worn. I had been begging my bread from Robert Beaufort's lackey!

Your friend, on naming you, received me kindly, and without question placed food before me pressed on me clothing and money procured me a passport gave me your address and now I am beneath your roof. Gawtrey, I know nothing yet of the world but the dark side of it.

William Gawtrey was one of those men who are born to exert a certain influence and ascendency wherever they may be thrown; his vast strength, his redundant health, had a power of themselves a moral as well as physical power. He naturally possessed high animal spirits, beneath the surface of which, however, at times, there was visible a certain undercurrent of malignity and scorn.

He walked slowly towards him; but Fanny abruptly left his side, lured by a moth that flitted duskily over the graves. "Your name, sir, I think, is Simon Gawtrey?" said Morton. "I have came to England in quest of you." "Of me?" said the old man, half rising, and his eyes, now completely blind, rolled vacantly over Morton's person "Of me? for what? Who are you? I don't know your voice!"

Gawtrey, nodding to his comrade and giving a hurried bow to the host, descended also. As they passed the porter's lodge, they found Lilburne on the step of his carriage; he turned his head abruptly, and again met Mr. Gawtrey's eye; paused a moment, and whispered over his shoulder: "So we remember each other, sir? Let us not meet again; and, on that condition, bygones are bygones."

At the same instant Gawtrey sprang upon the table, his black frown singling out from the group the ashen, cadaverous face of the shrinking traitor. Birnie had darted from the table he was half-way towards the sliding door his face, turned over his shoulder, met the eyes of the chief. "Devil!" shouted Gawtrey, in his terrible voice, which the echoes of the vault gave back from side to side.

"And your father?" said Philip; and here he spoke to Gawtrey of the conversation he had overheard in the churchyard, but on which a scruple of natural delicacy had hitherto kept him silent.

One evening as they thus sat together, Morton, after listening for some time to his companion's comments on men and things, said abruptly, "Gawtrey! there is so much in you that puzzles me, so much which I find it difficult to reconcile with your present pursuits, that, if I ask no indiscreet confidence, I should like greatly to hear some account of your early life.

William Gawtrey was one of those men who are born to exert a certain influence and ascendency wherever they may be thrown; his vast strength, his redundant health, had a power of themselves a moral as well as physical power. He naturally possessed high animal spirits, beneath the surface of which, however, at times, there was visible a certain undercurrent of malignity and scorn.

"He has found out the cleverest hand in France, the very fellow who helped Bouchard in all his five-franc pieces. He has promised to bring him to-night." "Ay, I remember," returned Gawtrey, "he told me this morning, he is a famous decoy!" "I think so, indeed!" quoth a coiner; "for he caught you, the best head to our hands that ever les industriels were blessed with sacre fichtre!"

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