oad, and, if you please, will do the rest of our journey
together.'

CHAPTER XIX

AN UNWILLING ALLY

Under the smoothness of Sir George's words, under the subtle mockery of
his manner, throbbed a volcano of passion and vengeance. But this was
for the lawyer only, even as he alone saw the moonlight gleam faintly on
the pistol barrel that lurked behind his companion's thigh. For Mr.
Dunborough, it would be hard to imagine a man more completely taken by
surprise. He swore one great oath, for he saw, at least, that the
meeting boded him 110 good; then he sat motionless in his saddle, his
left hand on the pommel, his right held stiffly by his side. The moon,
which of the two hung a little at Sir George's back, shone only on the
lower part of Dunborough's face, and by leaving his eyes in the shadow
of his hat, gave the others to conjecture what he would do next. It is
probable that Sir George, whose hand and pistol were ready, was
indifferent; perhaps would have hailed with satisfaction an excuse for
vengeance. But Mr. Fishwick, the pacific witness of this strange
meeting, awaited the issue with staring eyes, his heart in his mouth;
and was mightily relieved when the silence, which the heavy breathing of
Mr. Dunborough's horse did but intensify, was broken on the last comer's
side, by nothing worse than a constrained laugh.

'Travel together?' he said, with an awkward assumption of jauntiness,
'that depends on the road we are going.'

'Oh, we are going the same road,' Sir George answered, in the mocking
tone he had used before.

'You are very clever,' Mr. Dunborough retorted, striving to hide his
uneasiness; 'but if you know that, sir, you have the advantage of me.'

'I have,' said Sir George, and laughed rudely.

Dunborough stared, finding in the other's manner fresh cause for
misgiving. At last, 'As you please,' he said contemptuously. 'I am for
Calne. The road is public. You may travel by it.'

'We are not going to Calne,' said Sir George.

Mr. Dunborough swore. 'You are d----d impertinent!' he said, reining
back his horse, 'and may go to the devil your own way. For me, I am
going to Calne.'

'No,' said Sir George, 'you are not going to Calne. She has not gone
Calne way.'

Mr. Dunborough drew in his breath quickly. Hitherto he had been
uncertain what the other knew, and how far the meeting was accidental;
now, forgetful what his words implied and anxious only to say something
that might cover his embarr