t, Mr. Foster," said Crispin, an idea suddenly occurring to
him. "You mentioned horses. Are they fresh?"

"As June roses."

"And you are returning to London, are you not?"

"I am."

"When do you wish to proceed?"

"To-morrow."

"Why, then, sir, I have a proposal to make which will remove the need of
your note of hand. Lend me your horses, sir, to reach Harwich. I wish to
set out at once!"

"But your wound?" cried Cynthia. "You are still faint."

"Faint! Not I. I am awake and strong. My wound is no wound, for a
scratch may not be given that name. So there, sweetheart." He laughed,
and drawing down her head, he whispered the words: "Your father." Then
turning again to Foster. "Now, sir," he continued, "there are four
tolerable posthorses of mine below, on which you can follow tomorrow to
Harwich, there exchanging them again for your own, which you shall find
awaiting you, stabled at the Garter Inn. For this service, to me of
immeasurable value, I will willingly cede those gewgaws to you."

"But, rat me, sir," cried Foster in bewilderment, "tis too
generous--'pon honour it is. I can't consent to it. No, rat me, I
can't."

"I have told you how great a boon you will confer. Believe me, sir, to
me it is worth twice, a hundred times the value of those trinkets."

"You shall have my horses, sir, and my note of hand as well," said
Foster firmly.

"Your note of hand is of no value to me, sir. I look to leave England
to-morrow, and I know not when I may return."

Thus in the end it came about that the bargain was concluded. Cynthia's
maid was awakened and bidden to rise. The horses were harnessed to
Crispin's coach, and Crispin, leaning upon Harry Foster's arm, descended
and took his place within the carriage.

Leaving the London blood at the door of the Suffolk Arms, crushing,
burning, damning and ratting himself at Crispin's magnificence, they
rolled away through the night in the direction of Ipswich.

Ten o'clock in the morning beheld them at the door of the Garter Inn at
Harwich. But the jolting of the coach had so hardly used Crispin that he
had to be carried into the hostelry. He was much exercised touching the
Lady Jane and his inability to go down to the quay in quest of her, when
he was accosted by a burly, red-faced individual who bluntly asked him
was he called Sir Crispin Galliard. Ere he could frame an answer the man
had added that he was Thomas Jackson, master of the Lady Jane--at which
piece of g