Isn't it the master's brogues ?' she replied, frightened, she knew not why, after the custom of her kind.
'You observe that ?' and he pointed specially to the transverse line across the heel.

'Do you know that ?' The woman assented.
'Who made or mended these shoes ?' 'Bill Heaney, the shoemaker, down in Martin's-row, there--'twas he made them, and mended them, too, Sir.' So he came to a perfect identification, and then an authentication of his paper pattern; then she could say they were certainly the shoes he wore on Friday night--in fact, every other pair he had were then on the shoe-stand on the lobby.

So Lowe entered the house, and got pen and ink, and continued to question the maid and make little notes; and the other maid knocked at the parlour door with a message to Toole.
Lowe urged his going; and somehow Toole thought the magistrate suspected him of making signs to his witness, and he departed ill at ease; and at the foot of the stairs he said to the woman-- 'You had better go in there--that stupid Lynn is doing her best to hang your master, by Jove!' And the woman cried-- 'Oh, dear, bless us!' Toole was stunned and agitated, and so with his hand on the clumsy banister he strode up the dark staircase, and round the little corner in the lobby, to Mrs.Nutter's door.
'Oh, Madam, 'twill all come right, be sure,' said Toole, uncomfortably, responding to a vehement and rambling appeal of poor Mrs.Nutter's.
'And do you _really_ think it will?
Oh, doctor, doctor, _do_ you think it will?
The last two or three nights and days--how many is it ?--oh, my poor head--it seems like a month since he went away.' 'And where do you think he is?
Do you think it's business ?' 'Of course 'tis business, Ma'am.' 'And--and--oh, doctor!--you really think he's safe ?' 'Of _course_, Madam, he's safe--what's to ail him ?' And Toole rummaged amongst the old medicine phials on the chimneypiece, turning their labels round and round, but neither seeing them nor thinking about them, and only muttering to himself with, I'm sorry to say, a curse here and there.
'You see, my dear Ma'am, you must keep yourself as quiet as you can, or physic's thrown away upon you; you really must,' said Toole.
'But doctor,' pleaded the poor lady, 'you don't know--I--I'm terrified--I--I--I'll never be the same again,' and she burst into hysterical crying.
'Now, really, Madam--confound it--my dear, good lady--you see--this will never do'-- he was uncorking and smelling at the bottles in search of 'the drops'-- 'and--and--here they are--and isn't it better, Ma'am, you should be well and hearty--here drink this--when--when he comes back--don't you see--than--a--a--' 'But--oh, I wish I could tell you.

She said--she said--the--the--oh, you don't know--' '_She_--who?
_Who_ said _what_ ?' cried Toole, lending his ear, for he never refused a story.
'Oh! Doctor, he's gone--I'll never--never--I know I'll never see him again.

Tell me he's not gone--tell me I'll see him again.' 'Hang it, can't she stick to one thing at a time--the poor woman's half out of her wits,' said Toole, provoked; 'I'll wager a dozen of claret there's more on her mind than she's told to anyone.' Before he could bring her round to the subject again, the doctor was called down to Lowe; so he took his leave for the present; and after his talk with the magistrate, he did not care to go up again to poor little Mrs.Nutter; and Moggy was as white as ashes standing by, for Mr.Lowe had just made her swear to her little story about the shoes; and Toole walked home to the village with a heavy heart, and a good deal out of humour.
Toole knew that a warrant would be issued next day against Nutter.