n,
could not say. But the fact that the carriage was closed had struck him,
and together with the omission to take fresh horses, had awakened his
suspicions.

By the time this was told a dozen were round them, listening
open-mouthed; and cheered by the lights and company Mr. Fishwick grew
brave again. But Sir George allowed no respite: in five minutes they
were clear of the houses and riding hard for Chippenham, the next stage
on the Bristol road; Sir George's horse cantering free, the lawyer's
groaning as it bumped across Studley bridge and its rider caught the
pale gleam of the water below. On through the village they swept, past
Brumhill Lane-end, thence over the crest where the road branches south
to Devizes, and down the last slope. The moon rose as they passed the
fourth milestone out of Calne; another five minutes and they drew up,
the horses panting and hanging their heads, in the main street of
Chippenham.

A coach--one of the night coaches out of Bristol--was standing before
the inn, the horses smoking, the lamps flaring cheerfully, a crowd round
it; the driver had just unbuckled his reins and flung them either way.
Sir George pushed his horse up to the splinter-bar and hailed him,
asking whether he had met a closed chaise and four travelling Bristol
way at speed.

'A closed chaise and four?' the man answered, looking down at the
party; and then recognising Sir George, 'I beg your honour's pardon,' he
said. 'Here, Jeremy,' to the guard--while the stable-man and helpers
paused to listen or stared at the heaving flanks of the riders'
horses--'did we meet a closed chaise and four to-night?'

'We met a chaise and four at Cold Aston,' the guard answered,
ruminating. 'But 'twas Squire Norris's of Sheldon, and there was no one
but the Squire in it. And a chaise and four at Marshfield, but that was
a burying party from Batheaston, going home very merry. No other, closed
or open, that I can mind, sir, this side of Dungeon Cross, and that is
but two miles out of Bristol.'

'They are an hour and a half in front of us!' Sir George cried eagerly.
'Will a guinea improve your memory?'

Ay, sir, but 'twon't make it,' the coachman answered, grinning. 'Jeremy
is right. I mind no others. What will your honour want with them?'

'They have carried off a young lady!' Mr. Fishwick cried shrilly. 'Sir
George's kinswoman!'

'To be sure?' ejaculated the driver, amid a murmur of astonishment; and
the crowd which had grown sin