Then Mr. Manners desired Dr. Perriera to go to Kingsley, and tell him that he might not return till morning, and that it would be best not to wait up for him. After which, he and Timothy set out on their errand. "I will drive you," said Timothy; "I have a fast-trotting mare that will skim over the ground." The fast-trotting mare being harnessed, they started off at the rate of ten miles an hour. CHAPTER XLVII. It was closing time at the Three Tuns, and some tipplers were being bundled out, much against their will, when Timothy Chance, entering with Mr. Manners, called the landlord aside, and had a hurried conference with him. The result was satisfactory. "They are having supper in a private room," said Timothy to Mr. Manners, "and the landlord will take us up, unannounced." They ascended the stairs, and the landlord, without knocking, throwing open the door, Timothy and Mr. Manners entered the room. Mark Inglefield was sitting at the supper-table; by his side sat Mary Parkinson; opposite to them sat Blooming Bess. Mark Inglefield, looking up, with angry words on his lips at the intrusion, was about to utter them, when, seeing who his visitors were, he fell back as if suddenly paralyzed. His face was of a deadly pallor, his limbs trembled, he was speechless. Mr. Manners gave him time to recover himself, but the detected villain did not speak. He felt that retribution had overtaken him. "I wish to say a word to you," said Mr. Manners, sternly. "Do you prefer it should be said here or in private?" Mark Inglefield, shaking like a man in an ague, rose to his feet and staggered to the door. "In private?" asked Mr. Manners. "In private," replied Mark Inglefield, his voice scarcely rising above a whisper. "Remain here," said Mr. Manners to Timothy, "and explain to Miss Parkinson why we have come." Then he followed Mark Inglefield from the room. The landlord was on the stairs, and at Mr. Manners's request he conducted the two to another room, saying: "You will not be disturbed." Summoning all his courage, Mark Inglefield said: "This is an unexpected honor, sir. Your errand is probably the same as mine." "What may your errand be?" asked Mr. Manners. "I said this morning," replied Mark Inglefield, striving to believe that the game was not yet lost, and that he could still continue to deceive the man upon whom he had imposed for so many years, "that I would find Mary Parkinson, and endeavor to extract the truth from her. With the aid of a detective I succeeded in tracking her here." "Yes," said Mr. Manners, inwardly resolving to ascertain to what further lengths in the art of duplicity Mark Inglefield would go; "was she surprised to see you?" "Very," said Mark Inglefield, beginning to gain confidence. "Very much surprised." "She did not know you?"