He had got his money, but would be revenged for the fright.
Baffled here, young Wardlaw went down to Oxford and shut himself up in his own room, a prey to fear and remorse.

He sported his oak, and never went out.

All his exercise was that of a wild beast in its den, walking restlessly up and down.
But all his caution did not prevent the prisoner's solicitor from getting to him.

One morning, at seven o'clock, a clerk slipped in at the heels of his scout, and, coming to young Wardlaw's bedside, awoke him out of an uneasy slumber by serving him with a subpoena to appear as Robert Penfold's witness.
This last stroke finished him.

His bodily health gave way under his mental distress.