"I'll be there to the minute," answered the man, "for I've nothing else to do; but I suppose I come upon honour, and that nobody will try to stop me from coming away again." "Neither by any fault nor any indiscretion of mine," answered Mr. Scriven; "but you must take care in the mean time for fear they should shut you up. If you and I can set off to Northumberland at once, while the iron is hot, you will be out of the way yourself, and we shall take this lad quite unprepared, and have him before a justice ere he knows what he's doing. It must depend upon circumstances, however--I mean, from what I see in the city. If all's right, and if I can go away, we will set out this very night or to-morrow morning." "That's all right, sir; that's all right," said Sam. "I'll be there to the minute; and now I suppose we had better go away, for I see you've got your hat in your hand, and I suppose your time's short." "Very, considering all I have to do," replied Mr. Scriven; "and as I know this matter is important, the sooner it is got through the better." "Certainly, sir, certainly," answered Sam; "you shan't wait for me. So, good morning to you." Mr. Scriven did not half like to let him go, but there was no help for it. He had once thought of giving him in charge to a constable; but that, he saw, might spoil all his plans, and he abandoned the idea directly. There were no securities to be taken of such a man except his fears or his interests; and both of these, Mr. Scriven imagined, he had to a certain degree enlisted on his side. Nevertheless, when he saw him depart, he felt a good many unpleasant doubts as to whether he should ever see his face again, unless at the bar of some police-court. CHAPTER XXXV. There was a morning of longings at Milford Castle: something--somebody--was evidently expected. It began at the breakfast-table. Lady Anne was down first, but Maria had been up earliest; and when she at length entered the cheerful little room, she found her fair hostess gazing thoughtfully out of the window. A heavy dew had fallen during the night, and it was lying filmy and bright upon the lawns and slopes of the park, like the misty radiance with which fancy invests the unseen things of life. Was it at that dewy silvering Lady Anne was gazing so intently? or at that deep shadowy wood, the tops of whose ancient trees were just seen above the rise, the road dipping down into them as if to take a bath in their cool verdure? It was the road towards Belford, and her eyes were anxiously turned in that direction--perhaps her thoughts also. Maria went up to her and kissed her; and then, twining their arms together, they both stood at the window, and both thought for nearly five minutes without speaking a word. At length Lady Anne said--