After a mile or so, the riders slackened speed, and kept an easy pace thereafter till they were near the town. Two or three times they had made a momentary halt to listen, but had heard nothing to indicate that they were followed. Everell had frequently asked Georgiana how she did, and she had declared, “Very well.” He now inquired whether she could travel much farther without stopping to rest, and begged her to be perfectly honest in her reply. She assured him she was equal to a dozen miles, at least.
“Then it is a question,” said he, “whether we should stay a few hours at the place we are coming to, or go on to the next town southward. I conceive we have naught to fear from your uncle. As for Thornby, I know not. He may desire that nothing of all this shall become known; on the other hand, his wrath may outweigh his vanity. ’Tis not likely his men would give chase so far without his commands. The clerk would certainly go to consult him before ordering a long pursuit, and Thornby’s first care would be to get himself liberated from the closet. No doubt all depends on his state of feeling at that moment. Were Jeremiah Filson still a factor in the case, I should count on pursuit. Men of that persistent sort, having once set themselves a task, are not to be thrown off, however slight be the gain or the motive. They know how to make such as Thornby the servants of their wills. But without Filson’s egging on, I doubt if Thornby or his clerk will give themselves much trouble concerning us. Your uncle, I think, will find means to dissuade them. In any case, we have a fair start, so that if you feel the least fatigue or discomfort, sweet,—And yet, ’twould go hard to lose all, after coming off so well hitherto. Certainly Thornby will be in a great fury:—to be locked in his own closet, after being robbed of you and of his power over your uncle! At first he will be for revenge at any cost. And who knows but he may linger in that mind? He may make it a great matter, inform the sheriff of the county, and raise a general hue and cry. ’Tis a possibility we must reckon with. Our only security against it is a long start at the outset. And yet you’ve already undergone too much to-night. Perhaps two or three hours of rest—But, devil take it, Filson has been at this town!—’twas here you warned me of him. No doubt he has left accounts of me. I may be recognized if I show my face at any house. But, if we pass through the town in this darkness—”
He was going on to consider the alternatives further, but Georgiana, having waited in vain for a pause, now interrupted with the most positive assertion that she would not think of stopping at the town they were about to enter. So they walked their horses through such of its narrow streets as lay in their route, and were soon upon the open road again, having encountered no light nor other sign of life. They improved their speed, and, having passed the spot where Everell had taken leave of Roughwood a fortnight before,—though its location could not be certified in the darkness,—arrived at another town of silent streets wherein no lamp or candle relieved the night. By their own lantern, the lovers were enabled to inspect the house-fronts, and to select what appeared to be the chief inn of the place. After much imperative calling for the landlord, Everell was answered by a half-dressed man, of whom he demanded accommodations in the tone of authority that had imposed upon the servants at Thornby Hall. Here, as there, it availed, and, as soon as the travellers were admitted, Everell curtly explained that the lady had met with an accident; he added, carelessly, that they had come from the South.
The half-dressed man proving to be the landlord, Everell bespoke a chaise and fresh horses for an early hour in the morning; and, as there was only one sleeping-room available, saw Georgiana conducted thereto; after which he made his own bed, with the aid of his cloak, on a settle in the bar-parlour. He passed the night in a half-sleep, ready to take alarm at any sound of later arrivals. In the morning, when the time set for departure was near, he summoned a maid and was about to send her to Georgiana, when that lady herself appeared on the stairs. She was quite ready to travel, having interviewed the innkeeper’s wife, and acquired a hat, a mantle, and some other articles, all in a fair state of preservation, in exchange for one of her rings.
Everell complimented her upon this timely regard for appearances while travelling by daylight, and declared that no other woman in England could look as well in the costliest finery as Georgiana did in the second-hand wardrobe of a country landlady. Georgiana was pleased at this; but not entirely so, until he added that she should supply herself in better accordance with her own taste at the first opportunity. He then handed her into the chaise, entrusted to the landlord the despatching of the horses and pistols to Foxwell, and gave directions to the postilion. Hearing these, the innkeeper was much puzzled, for Everell had designedly given him the impression that the journey of the couple was Northward. Ere he could scratch a probable solution of the problem into his head, the chaise was rattling away.
The freshness of the morning had its effect upon the lovers at first; but Everell soon perceived that Georgiana was pale and languid. He urged her to try to sleep, and offered his shoulder as a pillow. She, on her side, observed that his voice was quite hoarse, and insisted upon arranging his cloak so that he, too, could rest. Presently, in spite of herself, her eyes closed. He pillowed her head as he had suggested, and softly kissed her hair. The next fact of which he was distinctly conscious was that the chaise had stopped before a roadside inn, and the postilion was telling him that here was a good place at which to breakfast. Glad to find, on inquiry, how many hours and miles they had got rid of in sleep, Everell awakened Georgiana, and they were regaled with bread, cheese, and fried bacon. They were now quite cured of fatigue, though Everell’s hoarseness was increased.
The journey was resumed. A few towns and many villages were left behind. Finally, at the end of a stage, Everell thought the time of changing horses might safely be utilized in visiting some shops near the posting-inn. When the travellers returned with their purchases, their new conveyance was ready. They set out immediately, putting off dinner to the late afternoon rather than make a longer stop at present. As they drove out of the yard into the street, Georgiana uttered a quick “Oh!” and drew back from the chaise window, at the same time laying her hand on Everell’s breast to make him do likewise.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“The man on horseback,” she replied; “don’t look out! ’Tis Jeremiah Filson!”
“Impossible! I left him as good as dead. You are mistaken, sweet. How could you know him?—you have scarcely seen him.”
“I saw him well enough at Thornby Hall last night; and this I am certain was he. He was riding up the street; there was another horseman with him. He looked tired, and the horses seemed fagged. ’Twas he, I could swear,—the same clothes.”
“Then the dog must have feigned, last night, to save himself from a coup de grace. Did he see us, I wonder?”
“He didn’t appear to. He was looking at the houses, I thought.”
“Looking for the inn, probably. Well, if he stops there, he will inquire for us. If not, he is close behind us. In either case, he is on our track. Thank heaven, we are almost out of the town.”—The new postilion, as soon as the chaise was safe in the street, had whipped up his horses to a gallop, in order to make the showy start affected by artists in his craft.—“Filson’s experience last night has given him a respect for my sword,” Everell went on; “he will not dare come within reach of it himself. I at least pinked his other ear, as I promised to. He will now act with caution; will attempt to hunt me down without showing himself, and, if he finds me tarrying anywhere, will apply to the local authorities. He will be no less dangerous for proceeding in that way—he will be the more so, rather. We shall not dare stop long anywhere. We had best take our meals at solitary country inns, where he cannot come up unperceived, nor set the authorities upon me without time and trouble. We must travel night and day till we are safe: to sleep at an inn would give him his opportunity. I see ’tis possible for you to sleep as we go. So then, barring accident, we shall doubtless keep our lead to the end, if he hangs on so far.”
“But if we are delayed at the posting-houses?” said Georgiana. “Sometimes one cannot get horses immediately.”
“Ay, there is one danger,” Everell replied. “But we must gain such a distance that we may lose time and yet be away before he can steal upon us; or at least before he can bring officers about us. We must not tarry long in a garrison town. Military officers would be too ready to act upon information in such a case as mine. He cannot get the civil powers to move so quickly. Well, we must keep our lead. In the country he will not venture too close upon our heels. We are out of the town, at last. I wonder if he stopped at that inn.”
Everell thrust his head out of the side window and looked back. Nobody was following. He then called to the driver, and gave instructions in regard to the pace of travel, hinting at the reward in store for obedience. The lad was so compliant, the horses so fresh, that in due time Everell thought a pause might be made for dinner without much risk of their being overtaken. At the next suitable house of refreshment he ordered a halt, somewhat to the disapproval of the postilion, who would have preferred to stop at an inn of his own suggesting. Everell chose this, however, because it had as neighbours only two or three brick houses and a half-dozen thatched cottages, all looking drowsy behind ragged hedges, while its chief window commanded a view of the road over which the fugitives had come.
They caused a table to be placed at the window, and there, on a soiled cloth, were served with boiled eggs, cold bacon, and bread, by the frowsy woman who had taken the order, set the table, and done the cooking. But the eggs were fresh, and the bacon good, so that little was left on the table when the travellers rose from it. The postilion had evidently found the ale, bread, and cheese better than he had expected; and the horses apparently had nothing to complain of in their refreshment. At all events, the journey was resumed in good spirits, and, as no sign of Filson had appeared upon the stretch of road in sight, the lovers began to feel more secure. Georgiana now recalled Filson’s jaded appearance. Perhaps, as on a former occasion, he had yielded to the dictates of tired nature: perhaps he had thrown over the pursuit, and was merely bound for London. As for the horseman with him, that might have been a postboy or a casual fellow traveller. While their own chaise went rolling along at good speed, the lovers felt hope increase within them. Nevertheless, they were still determined to go on by night.
Dusk had risen—or, rather, fallen, to be accurate in spite of the poets—when they arrived at the place where they would have to obtain the horses and vehicle for their night journey. It was a small town, with a High Street enlivened by the humbler inhabitants strolling up and down in the light from the shop windows. A lamp hung over the entrance to the principal inn. As soon as the chaise was in the yard, Everell called for a fresh conveyance.
The landlord was very sorry, but there were no horses. How soon would there be any? Certainly not that night: he wouldn’t send out tired cattle, not for love or money. Would there be a stage-coach, or even a carrier’s wagon? Not before morning. Everell turned to the postilion, who was now busy with his own fagged horses. No, sir; this was as far as he dared go: he knew his orders; his cattle were done for, and he was done for, and he wouldn’t let his beasts go another mile, not for love or money or the King himself.
“Mind how you speak of the King, booby,” a voice broke in, pertly; and Everell, looking around, saw three or four trim young fellows at the taproom door, all in red coats.
“Soldiers in town?” said Everell to the landlord.
“Yes, your Honour; two companies waiting orders. You’d ’a’ had the pleasure of meeting the officers at dinner if you’d come a little sooner, but now they be all gone to a ball at a gentleman’s house in the neighbourhood. Most of them lodge here; but I have a very good room left, at your Honour’s service.”
“I don’t want a room. I want horses. Where can I get them? Is there no other place in the town?”
The landlord shook his head sadly; but one of the soldiers said: “There’s a house across the way, sir,—the Red Swan. I’m not sure you can get horses there, but ’tis there or nowhere if this house can’t supply them.”
Everell thanked the man, pressed a shilling into his hand, settled with his own postilion, and had his luggage carried before himself and Georgiana to the Red Swan. This was a smaller house than the one they had left. It had no driveway through the middle; the entrance to the yard was by a side lane. The travellers, entering by the front door, found a corridor leading to the bar—and to the landlady. Could one hire horses and some sort of light vehicle? Yes, to be sure; but not that night: all the horses and carriages in the town were taking people to the ball a few miles out. Everell looked blankly at Georgiana. The landlady could offer his Honour the best rooms in the house. On the morrow there would be horses a-plenty. They would be returning from the ball by midnight.
“Ah, then, if we wait till midnight, we may have the first horses that come in?” said Everell.
The landlady was not sure. She would have to ask John, who was now driving to the ball. When he returned with his horses, he might be willing; the cattle would be fresh enough, but John might not be. At this, Everell spoke so eloquently, despite his hoarseness, of rewards and of his confidence in the landlady’s ability to influence John if she would, and Georgiana supported him with such sweetly anxious looks, that the good woman thought she could almost certainly promise a conveyance and John’s attendance at midnight or thereabouts. As for the intervening time, it was decided that Georgiana should lie down dressed, while Everell should remai............