In this he was not deceived. Foxwell saw all chance gone of obtaining the letter by force of his own; and now feared that, if taken by Thornby’s men, Everell would rather entrust it to them than suffer Foxwell to possess it after what had occurred. Foxwell, therefore, upon noticing the two servants at the doorway, called Joseph to assist in binding his wound. He then assigned the footman to the impossible task of prizing open the door of Thornby’s prison with a poker. This apparent concern for Thornby’s comfort was partly for the future conciliation of that gentleman; and Foxwell intended to employ his wound to the same end, on the ground that he had received it in the Squire’s interest. As he sat thinking the matter out, and watching Joseph’s bungling attempts to fasten a bandage, Foxwell heard a loud tramping, as of several heavy feet, in the hall. “The men whom the clerk went to fetch,” thought he; and, without turning his head, considered how he might delay them with perfect safety to himself. But, just as they seemed about to enter the room, there was a brief pause in their movements; and then they were heard rushing away and out of the hall. It was as if they had learned at the very threshold that the person they sought was gone elsewhere. Foxwell turned his eyes upon the doorway, near which Filson had fallen. To his amazement, the body of that rascal was not to be seen. This enabled Foxwell to account for the movements of the justice’s men: the knave had yet life enough to crawl out and indicate the way the fugitive had taken. The trampling of the men in the hall, the footman’s noise with the poker, and certain incoherent words of inquiry and command which Thornby had begun to shout from his closet, had covered the sound of Filson’s exit. Meanwhile, Everell and Georgiana had ridden down a driveway of considerable length, following close upon the heels of the boy, whom the lantern enabled them to keep in sight. The gate had swung to after Foxwell’s entrance. As the lad went to open it, and Everell put his hand in his pocket for the promised crown, there came a noise of men issuing from the house they had left, followed by a cry: “Stop them! gate, ho! let nobody pass!” The boy gave a startled look at the riders, and stood hesitating. Everell, who had been holding the lantern high so as to see the way, quickly handed it to Georgiana; drew one of the pistols from his pocket, pointed it at the lad’s head, and, at the same time offering the crown piece with his left hand, said: “Lead or silver, which?” [Illustration: “THE HORSES DASHED FORWARD.”]