Richard glanced at the lock of the door: there was no key in it! Besides there were two more doors to the room! He darted out: there was the man, far off down the passage, coming to answer the bell! He hastened to meet him. “Jacob,” he said, “sir Wilton rang for you: just run down with me to the gate, and give the woman there a message for me.” He hurried to the door, and the man, nothing doubting, followed him. “Tell her,” said Richard as they went, “if she should see Mr. Wingfold pass, to ask him to call at old Armour's smithy. She does not seem to remember me! Good day! I'm in a hurry!” He leaped into the pony-cart. “Barset!” he cried, and the same moment they were off at speed, for Simon saw something fresh was up. “Drive like Jehu,” panted Richard. “Let's see what the blessed pony can do! Every instant is precious.” Never asking the cause of his haste, old Simon did drive like Jehu, and never had the pony gone with a better will: evidently he believed speed was wanted, and knew he had it to give. No hoofs came clamping on the road behind them. They reached the town in safety, and Richard cashed his cheque--the more easily that Simon, a well-known man in Barset, was seen waiting for him in his trap outside. The eager, anxious look of Richard, and the way he clutched at the notes, might otherwise have waked suspicion. As it was, it only waked curiosity. When the man whom Richard had decoyed, appeared at length before his master, whose repeated ringing had brought the butler first; and when sir Wilton, after much swearing on his, and bewilderment on the man's part, made out the trick played on him, his wrath began to evaporate in amusement: he was outwitted and outmanoeuvred--but by his own son! and even in the face of such an early outbreak of hostilities, he could not help being proud of him. He burst into a half cynical laugh, and dismissed the men--to vain speculation on the meaning of the affair. Simon would have had Richard send the bank-notes by post, and stay with him a week or two; but Richard must take them himself; no other way seemed safe. Nor could he possibly rest until he had seen his mother, and told her all. He said nothing to his grandfather of his recognition by sir Wilton, and what followed: he feared he might take the thing in his own hands, and go to sir Wilton. Questioning his grandfather, he learned that Barbara was at home, but that he had seen her only once. She had one day appeared suddenly at the smithy door, with Miss Brown all in a foam. She asked about Richard, wheeled her mare, and was off homeward, straight as an arrow--for he went to the corner, and looked after her. They were near a station at Barset, and a train was almost due. Simon drove him there straight from the bank, and before he was home, Richard was half-way to London.