His mind, bent upon one hideous explanation of the crime, did not see another obvious one which had already occurred to the mind of the landlord of the Three Spaniards.
"God defend me!" cried Mr.Mogford, scanning by the pale light of the rising moon the features of the murdered man, "but it is Lord Bellasis!--oh, you bloody villain! Jem, bring him along here, p'r'aps his lordship can recognize him!" "It was not I!" cried Richard Devine.

"For God's sake, my lord say--" then he stopped abruptly, and being forced on his knees by his captors, remained staring at the dying man, in sudden and ghastly fear.
Those men in whom emotion has the effect of quickening circulation of the blood reason rapidly in moments of danger, and in the terrible instant when his eyes met those of Lord Bellasis, Richard Devine had summed up the chances of his future fortune, and realized to the full his personal peril.

The runaway horse had given the alarm.

The drinkers at the Spaniards' Inn had started to search the Heath, and had discovered a fellow in rough costume, whose person was unknown to them, hastily quitting a spot where, beside a rifled pocket-book and a blood-stained whip, lay a dying man.
The web of circumstantial evidence had enmeshed him.

An hour ago escape would have been easy.