Mrs. Narby stared at him, and then went off into a fit of crying and kicking, and grovelling on the floor. Narby lost no time in arguing the point, but picked up the struggling, squealing woman, and half carried, half dragged her into the back parts of the inn. And all this time Pope stared open-mouthed, as much at the daring of Elspeth as at the downfall of his hitherto redoubtable mother. And his feelings were shared by the company in the tap-room, who had long looked on Mrs. Narby as a model virago, who ought to be brought to her bearings. "I'd best see after that girl," said Sweetlips in a low voice to the doctor. "She can't be left to wander about these marshes all night." "What can you do for her?" questioned Browne, following the Cheap-jack to the door. "She can come with me in the caravan to Colchester. I'm starting for that place to-morrow." "What, will you give up----?" "Hush. Don't speak so loud. Of course I'm still on the job; but I want to place a certain person in safety before moving further in the matter." "I think it would be best for him to give himself up, and stand his trial," said Browne quickly, "especially as he has inherited this huge fortune." "He hasn't got it yet," replied Sweetlips, grimly, "nor will he, until he clears his character and hangs the assassin of his uncle. Come along," they were hurrying up the village street, through the drizzling rain, in the direction of the caravan, "we'll lose that girl." "She'll go straight to your wife." "I daresay she--no, there she is." Kind pointed to a slim, girlish figure, which was gliding slowly before them. "I say, Elspeth, Elspeth!" The figure stopped and when the two came up, she paused under a villainously bad oil lamp, which cast but a feeble gleam, so dusky was the atmosphere with the rain and swiftly coming night. "I knew you would come," she panted, not having yet got over her encounter with Mrs. Narby, "and so I went towards the caravan." "But ain't y' going there, my girl?" questioned Kind, startled. "No. I can't stop in the caravan, thank you all the same, Sweetlips, you forget that Mr. Herries is there." "What difference does that make? My missus can play society." Elspeth drooped her head under the shawl. "I am engaged to Mr. Herries." "What?" shouted Browne, catching her by the arm. "Speak lower," urged Kind, glancing uneasily around, "you never know who may be eavesdropping. "But it's impossible," said the little doctor, sinking his voice. "You have only known him for a day or so." "All the same, he loves me, and I love him." "Don't be foolish, girl. How can he," Brown was careful not to mention Herries' name, "how can he support you, when he hasn't got a penny? It's sheer madness." "You forget the fortune," whispered Sweetlips in the doctor's ear. "You forget your own words. He has to earn that yet."