For the lawyer saw his face and read it aright, and interposing

suggested an adjournment to the inn; adding that while they talked the

matter over and refreshed themselves, a messenger could go to Bath and

bring back new horses; in that way they might still be in Bristol by

eight in the morning.

'Bristol!' Sir George muttered, passing his hand across his brow.

'Bristol! But--she is not with them. We don't know where she is.' Mr. Fishwick was himself sick with fatigue, but he knew what to do and

did it. He passed his arm through Sir George's, and signed to the smith

to lead the way to the inn. The man did so, the crowd made way for them,

Mr. Dunborough and the servant followed; in less than a minute the three

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gentlemen stood together in the sanded tap-room at the tavern. The

landlord hurried in and hung a lamp on a hook in the whitewashed wall;

its glare fell strongly on their features, and for the first time that

night showed the three to one another.

Even in that poor place, the light had seldom fallen on persons in a

more pitiable plight. Of the three, Sir George alone stood erect, his

glittering eyes and twitching nostrils belying the deadly pallor of his

face. He was splashed with mud from head to foot, his coat was plastered

where he had fallen, his cravat was torn and open at the throat. He

still held his naked sword in his hand; apparently he had forgotten that

he held it. Mr. Dunborough was in scarce better condition. White and

shaken, his hand bound to his side, he had dropped at once into a chair,

and sat, his free hand plunged into his breeches pocket, his head sunk

on his breast. Mr. Fishwick, a pale image of himself, his knees

trembling with exhaustion, leaned against the wall. The adventures of

the night had let none of the travellers escape.

The landlord and his wife could be heard in the kitchen drawing ale and

clattering plates, while the voices of the constable and his gossips,

drawling their wonder and surmises, filled the passage. Sir George was

the first to speak.

'Bristol!' he said dully. 'Why Bristol?' 'Because the villains who have escaped us here,' the lawyer answered,

'we shall find there. And they will know what has become of her.' 'But shall we find them?' 'Mr. Dunborough will find them.' 'Ha!' said Sir George, with a sombre glance. 'So he will.' Mr. Dunborough spoke with sudden fury. 'I wish to Heaven,' he said,

'that I had never heard the girl's name. How do I know where she is!' 'You will have to know,' Sir George muttered between his teeth.




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