The two men raced off at the double, Dorrimore's rage increasing the further he went. It looked as if his plan to kidnap Lavinia had broken down. The idea had been to waylay her before she joined Vane. As the thing was turning out, she promised, when found, to be at so great a distance from the coach that to convey her there would be difficult. Before long they hove in sight of Lancelot Vane. He too was hurrying and looking right and left as he went. And he was alone. "The girl's fooled him," muttered Dorrimore between his set teeth. "That wouldn't matter a tinker's curse, but she's fooled us as well. Rofflash, I've a mind to pick a quarrel with the fellow and pink him." "And get yourself landed in Newgate. Don't you know, sir, it's against the law to draw a sword in the Park? If you're going to be so mad, I'll say good evening. I'll have nought to do with such folly. We'll find some other way to lay the spark by the heels and have the girl as well. My advice is not to show yourself or you'll put him on his guard." Dorrimore, whose head was not particularly strong, had had a couple of bottles with his dinner to give him spirit for the enterprise, and he allowed himself to be persuaded. He and Rofflash betook themselves to the coach which landed them at a tavern in St. James's Street, where Dorrimore drank and drank until he fell under the table and was carried out by a couple of waiters, put in a hackney coach and conveyed to his chambers in the Temple. Rofflash left his patron at the tavern long before this period arrived. He was on the search for Mistress Salisbury and knowing her haunts pretty well, he ran her to earth at a house of questionable repute in the neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Sally had had more to drink than the bottle of Mountain port her soul had craved for and was inclined to be boisterous, but her temper was apt to be uncertain. It was a toss up whether she laughed, cried or flew into a passion. She was inclined to the first if she thought of her triumph over Lavinia and to the last when Lancelot Vane and her failure to seduce him from his allegiance came into her mind. Sally often boasted she could win any man if she gave her mind to the task, but Vane had escaped her toils. Perhaps it was that she had a genuine passion for him and so had not used her powers of fascination. The more she drank, the more she cursed herself for having allowed Vane to slip through her fingers, and being in a reckless mood, she said as much to Rofflash. Otherwise she would hardly have made a confidant of a fellow who combined swash-buckling with highway robbery. "What!" jeered Captain Jeremy, "Sally Salisbury own herself beaten over a man. I'd as lief believe my old commander the great Duke Marlborough crying he couldn't thrash the mounseers. I'll swear you didn't let him go without getting the promise of an assignation out of him." "A promise? Don't talk of promises. It's easier to get a promise out of a man than his purse."