On reaching the town at which the coach stopped, we found ourselves obliged to hire another chaise for a short distance, in order to get to the starting-point of a second coach. Again we took inside places, and again, at the first stages when I got down to look at the outside passengers, there was the countryman with the green shade over his eye. Whatever conveyance we traveled by on our northward road, we never escaped him. He never attempted to speak to me, never seemed to notice me, and never lost sight of me. On and on we went, over roads that seemed interminable, and still the dreadful sword of justice hung always, by its single hair, over my head. My haggard face, my feverish hands, my confused manner, my inexpressible impatience, all belied the excuses with which I desperately continued to ward off Alicia’s growing fears, and Mrs. Baggs’s indignant suspicions. “Oh! Frank, something has happened! For God’s sake, tell me what!”--“Mr. Softly, I can see through a deal board as far as most people. You are following the doctor’s wicked example, and showing a want of confidence in me.” These were the remonstrances of Alicia and the housekeeper. At last we got out of England, and I was still a free man. The chaise (we were posting again) brought us into a dirty town, and drew up at the door of a shabby inn. A shock-headed girl received us. “Are we in Scotland?” I asked. “Mon! whar’ else should ye be?” The accent relieved me of all doubt. “A private room--something to eat, ready in an hour’s time--chaise afterward to the nearest place from which a coach runs to Edinburgh.” Giving these orders rapidly, I followed the girl with my traveling companions into a stuffy little room. As soon as our attendant had left us, I locked the door, put the key in my pocket, and took Alicia by the hand. “Now, Mrs. Baggs,” said I, “bear witness--” “You’re not going to marry her now!” interposed Mrs. Baggs, indignantly. “Bear witness, indeed! I won’t bear witness till I’ve taken off my bonnet, and put my hair tidy!” “The ceremony won’t take a minute,” I answered; “and I’ll give you your five-pound note and open the door the moment it’s over. Bear witness,” I went on, drowning Mrs. Baggs’s expostulations with the all-important marriage-words, “that I take this woman, Alicia Dulcifer for my lawful wedded wife.” “In sickness and in health, in poverty and wealth,” broke in Mrs. Baggs, determining to represent the clergyman as well as to be the witness. “Alicia, dear,” I said, interrupting in my turn, “repeat my words. Say ‘I take this man, Francis Softly, for my lawful wedded husband.’” She repeated the sentence, with her face very pale, with her dear hand cold and trembling in mine. “For better for worse,” continued the indomitable Mrs. Baggs. “Little enough of the Better, I’m afraid, and Lord knows how much of the Worse.”