Sir Henry's boot. 
More than that we were never destined to know, though there 
was much that we might surmise.  There was no chance of finding
footsteps in the Mire, for the rising mud oozed swiftly in 
upon them, but as we at last reached firmer ground beyond the
morass we all looked eagerly for them. But no slightest sign 
of them ever met our eyes.  Somewhere in the heart of the great
Grimpen Mire, down in the foul slime of the morass which had 
sucked our quarry down, that cold and cruel-hearted creature 
is forever buried.
Many other traces we did find in the bog-girt island where that
savage ally had been hid. A huge driving-wheel and a shaft half-
filled with rubbish showed the position of an abandoned mine. 
Beside it were the crumbling remains of the cottages of the miners,
driven away no doubt by the foul reek of the surrounding swamp. 
In one of these a staple and chain with a quantity of gnawed 
