"I did not meet with him," said Smeaton; "but doubtless he will be glad to follow his father; and, though his presence may be some embarrassment to me, yet, poor boy, it is well that he should go with me." "Better tell him all, my lord," observed Mrs. Culpepper. "You may trust his word if he promises secresy; for, though a little twisted by one thing or another, God gave him good wits at the first, and a good heart too. Hark! That must be his horse. Yes, he is calling for a groom. He must have heard what has happened; for that is not his usual way of speaking. Stay:--I will get you both some food and wine. He will want it as much as you." She had hardly left the room when Richard Newark entered it; his manner of speech and bearing were wholly, almost miraculously, changed, as, with a heated face and eyes full of wild light, he exclaimed, "Ah, you have heard the tidings, Eskdale! They have taken away my father, which was what I always expected, and Emmeline too, which, I did _not_ expect; for she meddled with nothing, and he meddled with everything. Now, what do you intend to do? I know what _I_ intend to do, if the chain and collar will let me." "I propose," replied Smeaton, "to take boat at once, land somewhere near Weymouth where we are not known, and thence make our journey to London under fictitious names. I take it for granted that you are anxious to follow your father; and, if you like to accompany me, I shall be glad, although there is no need of your doing so; for doubtless you would be permitted to pass unquestioned. As for me, the plan I propose offers the only chance of my being able to reach the capital except as a prisoner. But you must decide at once, Richard." "What do you want in the capital?" asked. Richard Newark. "What have you to do in that great ugly mixture of dirt, brick houses, and coal smoke?" "I have much business, and important business, there," answered Smeaton. "Lord Stair pledged his word to me that I should remain safe and unquestioned in this country for a time, if I meddled in no degree with politics. I have not done so, and yet you know how I have been treated." Richard Newark laughed, and shook his head with a thoughtful and abstracted air. "I must not say what I would fain say," he remarked--"no, no, I must not. It is very odd that one's fate is so often managed for one! You have been played upon, Smeaton." "At all events," replied Smeaton, "I have written two letters to Lord Stair, to neither of which I have received an answer. He is a man of honour and a gentleman, who will not deny his plighted word; and I must go to London to claim its fulfilment."