Arrived at the end of her appointed stage, she had the good luck to find a caravan just ready to start from the door. Zorilda had directions from her duenna to sit by the road side, under a spreading tree, till this new vehicle was in motion, while Rachel bustled about, appeared busy in recognising her acquaintances at the inn, and was attended to her carriage by the landlord and his wife, who wished her a pleasant journey, as she drove away from the porch at which they performed the parting honours. Bidding adieu to the group who always assemble on such occasions to witness a departure, Rachel set off, and a sudden turn in the road, bore the caravan, though not moving at a very brisk rate, out of sight in a moment. Zorilda was seated under the appointed tree, at a little distance, but so completely absorbed in her own thoughts, that she would have suffered the machine to pass unnoticed, if Rachel had not vociferated, 'Driver, driver; don't you hear that gentlewoman calling to you; wont you stop for a passenger?' The caravan stood still; Zorilda was roused from her melancholy reverie, and appearing with her little basket on her arm, Rachel shuffled from side to side with officious civility, assuring the stranger that there was "plenty of room," and so there was, for though like a snow-ball, they were destined to gather as they rolled, there were but two other persons already occupying seats, and these were a brace of sturdy farmers, who were so intent on comparing samples of corn, which each drew from his pocket, that Rachel had full opportunity to inform her fellow traveller, whose courage seemed to flag, that all farther devices to cover her flight would be unnecessary in a few hours. "If they come in search of us, it will be first to my brother's; then to the inn which we have just quitted, and where, likewise, they will be foiled. After this stage, we may take our ease, and travel in a proper manner, like Christians. A little caution for one or two stages more, and we shall then be at liberty." Zorilda sighed assent, and we will leave her and her attendant to their repose in a quiet country inn, while we return to Henbury. Some hours elapsed before it was perceived that the fugitives were actually missing. Mrs. Hartland, or, as we must not forget henceforward to entitle her, Lady Marchdale, heard the intelligence with perfect sang froid, only remarking that it was very extraordinary that her orders should be disobeyed, and desiring that on Zorilda's return to her chamber, she should be informed of the circumstance. The servants had no more suspicion than their Lady of a longer absence than till evening, and fully believed that Rachel, fearful lest want of customary exercise might injure "Miss Zoé's health," had prevailed on her to make a short excursion for change of air.