When Smeaton descended from the room he had inhabited, in order to remount, he found several of the servants in the hall, with old Mrs. Culpepper at their head. She seemed to witness his captivity with a stoical sort of apathy, which he knew to be far from her nature, and took no more notice of him than by dropping a formal curtsey as he passed. He easily understood her motives, and merely said-- "Be so good as to inform Sir John Newark, madam, that I trust to be back here in a few days. Do not let him make himself at all uneasy on my account; for, as he well knows, I have given no offence to the existing government, and can therefore be in no danger." "I will tell him, sir," replied Mrs. Culpepper; and the young nobleman mounted and rode on. The pace at which Captain Smallpiece thought fit to proceed was, as I have hinted, the very slowest possible; and it was evident to Smeaton that he did not intend to reach Exeter that night; but the clouds, which began to gather thick and lurid in the sky some way before they reached the hamlet and church of Aleton, induced him to quicken his movements a little. Rain was beginning to fall when they passed the small public-house; and the sergeant of the troop, who seemed on very familiar terms with his commanding officer, ventured to hint that it might be as well to stop there and refresh the men and horses. "No, no, Jack," replied the captain. "We must get on a little farther, till we come to Norton-Newchurch. There, we'll halt at old Mother Gandy's. She brews the best, and I owe her a turn." Perhaps he regretted, before long, that he had determined to proceed; for the menacing aspect of the clouds was soon changed into active operations. Thunder, lightning, and torrents of rain, pursued the party for the next three miles, which was the distance between Aleton and Newchurch, and not a man but was drenched to the skin, when the party dismounted at the door of the inn--if inn it could be properly called, being nothing more than a long rambling public-house, of two low stories, looking like half-a-dozen cottages put together. As soon as he was under shelter, Captain Smallpiece drew forth his watch, and found that he had contrived to make it six o'clock before his arrival. This was just what he intended, apparently; for he abruptly declared that, with wearied men and horses, it would be impossible to reach Exeter that night. He then made arrangements for the accommodation of his soldiers, and demanded a private room for himself and his prisoners, at the door of which he planted the trooper whom he most disliked in the party, to perform, in his dripping clothes, the wearisome office of sentry. "Now, my Lord," he said, as soon as the door was shut, "what will you please to treat the men with? Gadzooks! I shall be glad enough to put something warm into my own stomach; and I dare say they will too, poor devils!" Smeaton smiled, and replied--