Not as he thought; but was it the less truly so far as he was concerned? For a minute or two Mr Robert stood and looked after him as he went along the Close, a thick, sturdy figure, with country-cut clothes, and the unmistakable air of a gentleman. The Cathedral towers rose up on one side in soft noble lines against the quiet sky, leaves fluttered gently down, a little child ran across the stones in pursuit of a puppy, and fell almost at the Squire's feet. Mr Robert saw him pick it up, brush its frock like a woman, and stop its cries with something out of his pocket. The child toddled back triumphant, the Squire walked on towards the High Street, and Mr Robert turned in the other direction. Some indefinite sense of uneasiness had touched him, though, after all, there was no form to give it. If Mr Chester's manner had been at first slightly unusual, he explained it himself by saying that he had been stirred by old recollections, and the vagueness his friend had noticed quite died away by the end of their conversation. He was walking slowly, but with no perceptible faltering. "And a man's wedding-day must be enough to set things going in his head," Mr Robert reflected. "If matters had fallen out differently now with Margaret Hare--Well, well, so I am going to make an old fool of myself, too. I'd better get on to the carrier, and set Mrs Jones's mind easy about her lobster." Distances are not very great in Aunecester, and it did not take long for Mr Mannering to reach the White Horse, transact his business, and go back to the principal street to wait for his brother. There was one particular bookseller's shop, to which people had parcels sent, and where they lounged away what time they had in hand, and just before he reached it Mr Mannering noticed an unusual stir and thickening of the passers-by. He concluded that the band might be playing again, or that some little event connected with the Association had attracted a crowd. It was not until he was close to one of the groups that the scattered words they let fall attracted his attention. "An accident, did you say?" he said, stopping before a man whose face was red and heated. "Yes, sir. A gentleman knocked down. That's the boy, and a chase I've had to catch him." Mr Mannering began to see a horse, a policeman, and a frightened-looking lad in the midst of the crowd. "Nothing very serious, I hope?" "It looked serious, sir, when we picked him up. He is took into the shop, and they've sent for the doctor. Boys don't care what they ride over." "I fancy something was wrong before the horse touched him, though," said another man, with a child in his arms. "There was time enough else for him to have got out of the way." "Who is it?" asked Mr Mannering, with a sudden wakening of anxiety. At that moment Anthony Miles came quickly out of the shop, almost running against him in his hurry.