ne?" he demanded, fiercely, as she came into view along the
ill-lighted passage-way.

"Gone, good sir?" said she, quaveringly. "Why, how should I know where
he has gone? More quality has been here this morning than ever I saw in
Bradwell Street in all my life. First comes a coach this morning, with
four horses as fine as the king's, and a man atop would turn your
blood, he was that solemn-like, sir. Then your brother was up here
alone, sir, and very still. I will swear he was never out of this room.
Then, but an hour ago, here comes another coach, as big as the first,
and yellower. And out of it steps another fine lord, and he bows to your
brother, and in they get, and off goes the coach. But, God help me, sir!
How should I know which way they went, or what should be their errand?
Methinks it must be some servant come from the royal palace. Sir, be you
two of the nobility? And if you be, why come you here to Bradwell
Street? Sir, I am but a poor woman. If you be not of the nobility, then
you must be either coiners or smugglers. Sir, I am bethought that you
are dangerous guests in my house. I am a poor woman, as you know."

Law flung a coin at her as he sped through the hall and down the stair.
"'Twas to Bloomsbury Square," he said, as he sprang into saddle and set
heel to the flank of the good horse. "To Bloomsbury Square, then, and
fast!"

CHAPTER X

THE RUMOR OF THE QUARREL

Meantime, at the Knollys mansion, there were forthcoming other parts of
the drama of the day. The butler announced to Lady Catharine, still
sitting dreaming by the window, Sir Arthur Pembroke, now late arrived on
foot. Lady Catharine hesitated. "Show the gentleman to this room," she
said at length.

Pembroke came forward eagerly as he entered. "Such a day of it, Lady
Kitty!" he exclaimed, impulsively. "You will pardon me for coming thus,
when I say I have just been robbed of my horse. 'Twas at your very door,
and methinks you must know the highwayman. I have come to tell you of
the news."

"You don't mean--"

"Yes, but I do! 'Twas no less than Mr. Law, of Scotland. He hath taken
my horse and gone off like a whirlwind, leaving me afoot and friendless,
save for your good self. I am begging a taste of tea and a little
biscuit, for I vow I am half famished."

The Lady Catharine Knollys, in sheer reaction from the strain, broke out
into a peal of laughter.

"Sure, he has strange ways about him, this same Mr. Law," said she.
"That