Adventure stories; Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- James II, 1685-1688 -- Fiction
"Did you know that he was to have escaped from Dorchester with Mistress
Lanison to-morrow night?" said Harriet as Fellowes closed the door.
"Yes."
"He's fooled--fooled from first to last. She has gone to-night. She left
Dorchester, not an hour ago, with Lord Rosmore. He has lied to her and
to me," and the girl's eyes blazed with fury as she spoke.
"Gone! Willingly, do you mean?"
"Willingly!" exclaimed the girl. "She hates him; she was wiser than I
was. I loved him. She is in his power to-night."
"Which road did they take?" asked Fellowes.
"That which goes towards the river, afterwards I do not know. If you are
men follow him. Avenge Mistress Lanison and me."
"You have lied before this," said Martin quietly. "With a lie you
brought Mistress Lanison to the West. You played Lord Rosmore's game for
him. How do we know that you are speaking the truth now?"
"I hate him! Love turned to hate--do you know what that means?" said the
girl, turning upon him like some wild animal. "To-night I waited for him
and he did not come. Servants saw me and laughed; then one man, jeering
at me, told me the truth. He has gone with her, and every moment you
waste he is speeding from you. More, to make himself doubly secure, men
will come here at midnight asking for Mr. Crosby. They will pretend to
come from Mistress Lanison, and then capture him. A hasty trial, and
then the gibbet."
"We'll follow," said Martin.
"And kill him--kill him!" said the girl. "And if you have any thought
for a deceived woman, let him know that I sent you."
A few moments later Martin and Fellowes were in the street, talking
eagerly as they went. Martin's head was not barren of schemes to-night.
"You understand, Fellowes. To Crosby first. Tell him everything. Bid him
not spare his horse, nor pass a coach without knowing who rides in it.
Then let him hasten to 'The Jolly Farmers,' Tell him to wait there for
me as he did once before. On no account must he leave it. Then start on
your road, and leave Dorchester behind you as fast as horse can gallop.
One of us shall find Rosmore before the dawn."
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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