CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE COURT OF KING'S BENCH.
The summer and autumn had gone by--an eventful season, for with it hadvanished from the stage of politics one who had played so dignified andserious a part there. Southampton was dead, Clarendon disgraced and inexile. The Nestor and the Ulysses of the Stuart epic had melted from thescene. Down those stairs by which he had descended on his way to so many asplendid festival, himself a statelier figure than Kings or Princes, theChancellor had gone to banishment and oblivion. "The lady" had looked forthe last time, a laughing Jezebel, from a palace window, exultant at herenemy's fall; and along the river that had carried such tragic destinieseastward to be sealed in blood, Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, had driftedquietly out of the history he had helped to make. The ballast of that graveintellect was flung overboard so that the ship of fools might drift thefaster.
But in Westminster Hall, upon this windy November morning, nobody thoughtof Clarendon. The business of the day was interesting enough to obliterateall considerations of yesterday. The young barristers, who were learningtheir trade by listening to their betters, had been shivering on theirbenches in the Common Pleas since nine o'clock, in that chilly cornerwhere every blast from the north or north-east swept over the low woodenpartition that enclosed the court, or cut through the chinks in thepanelling. The students and juniors were in their usual places, sitting atthe feet of their favourite Common-law Judge; but the idlers who came foramusement, to saunter about the hall, haggle for books with the second-handdealers along the south wall, or flirt with the milliners who kept stallsfor bands and other legal finery on the opposite side, or to listen ontiptoe, with an ear above the panelled enclosure, to the quips and cranksor fierce rhetoric of a famous advocate--these to-day gravitated with oneaccord towards the south-west corner of the Hall, where, in the Court ofKing's Bench, Richard Revel, Baron Fareham, of Fareham, Hants, was to betried by a Buckinghamshire jury for abduction, with fraud, malice, andviolence, and for assault, with intent to murder.
The rank of the offender being high, and the indictment known to involvetragic details of family history, there had been much talk of the causewhich was on the paper for to-day; and, as a natural consequence, besidesthe habitual loungers and saunterers, gossips, and book-buyers, there wasa considerable sprinkling of persons of quality, who perfumed the not tooagreeable atmosphere with pulvilio and Florentine iris powder, and therustle of whose silks and brocades was audible all over the Hall. Notoften did such gowns sweep the dust brought in by plebeian feet, nor suchVenetian point collars rub shoulders with the frowsy Norwich drugget wornby hireling perjurers or starveling clerks. The modish world had come downupon the great Norman Hall like a flock of pigeons, sleek, iridescent,all fuss and flutter; and among these unaccustomed visitors there wasprodigious impatience for the trial to begin, and a struggle for goodplaces that brought into full play the primitive brutality which underliesthe politeness of the civillest people.
Lady Sarah Tewkesbury had risen betimes, and, in her anxiety to secure agood place, had come out in her last night's "head," which somewhat damagededifice of ginger-coloured ringlets and Roman pearls was now visible abovethe wooden partition of the King's Bench to the eyes of the commonaltyin the hall below, her ladyship being accommodated with a seat among thelawyers.
One of these was a young man in a shabby gown and rumpled wig, but witha fair complexion and tolerable features--a stranger to that court, andbetter known at Hicks's Hall, and among city litigators, with whom he hadalready a certain repute for keen wits and a plausible tongue--about theyoungest advocate at the English Bar, and by some people said to be nobarrister at all, but to have put on wig and gown two years ago at KingstonAssizes and called himself to the Bar, and stayed there by sheer audacity.This young gentleman, Jeffreys by name, having deserted the city andpossible briefs in order to hear the Fareham trial, was inclined to resentbeing ousted by an obsequious official to make room for Lady Sarah.
"Faith, one would suppose I was her ladyship's footman and had been keepingher seat for her," he grumbled, as he reluctantly rose at the Usher'swhispered request, and edged himself sulkily off to a corner where he foundjust standing-room.
It was a very hard seat which Mr. Jeffreys had vacated, and her ladyship,after sitting there over two hours, nodding asleep a good part of the time,began to feel internal sinkings and flutterings which presaged what shecalled a "swound," and necessitated recourse to a crystal flask of strongwaters which she had prudently brought in her muff. Other of Lady Fareham'sparticular friends were expected--Sir Ralph Masaroon, Lady Lucretia Topham,and more of the same kidney; and even the volatile Rochester had deigned toexpress an interest in the case.
"The man was mistaken in his metier," he had told Lady Sarah, when thescandal was discussed in her drawing-room. "The _role_ of seducer wasnot within his means. Any one could see he was in love with the palesister-in-law by the manner in which he scowled at her; but it is not everywoman who can be subjugated by gloom and sullenness, though some of 'emlike us tragical. My method has been to laugh away resistance, as my wifewill acknowledge, who was the cruellest she I ever tackled, and had baffledall her other servants. Indeed she must have been in Butler's eye when hewrote--
'That old Pyg--what d'ye call him--malion That cut his mistress out of stone, Had not so hard a hearted one.'
Even Lady Rochester will admit I conquered without heroics," upon which herladyship, late mistress Mallett, a beauty and a fortune, smiled assent withall the complacency of a six-months' bride. "To see a man tried for anattempted abduction is a sight worth a year's income," pursued Rochester."I would travel a hundred miles to behold that rare monster who has failedin his pursuit of one of your obliging sex!"
"Do you think us all so easily won?" asked Lady Sarah, piqued.
"Dear lady, I can but judge by experience. If obdurate to others you havestill been kind to me."
* * * * *
Lady Sarah had nearly emptied her flask of Muscadine before Masaroonelbowed his way to a seat beside her, from which he audaciously dislodgeda coffee-house acquaintance, an elderly lawyer upon whom fortune had notsmiled, with a condescending civility that was more uncivil than absoluterudeness.
"We'll share a bottle in Hell after the trial, mon ami," he said; and onseeing Lady Sarah's look of horror, he hastened to explain that Heaven,Hell, and Purgatory, were the cant names of three taverns which drove aroaring trade in strong drinks under the very roof of the Hall.
"The King's Attorney-general is prosecuting," answered Sir Ralph, replyingto a question from Lady Sarah, whose inquiries betrayed that denseignorance of legal technicalities common even to accomplished women. "Itis thought the lady's father would have been glad for the matter to bequashed, his fugitive daughter being restored to his custody--albeit with adamaged character--and her elder sister having run away from her husband."
"I will not hear you slander my dearest friend," protested Lady Sarah."Lady Fareham left her husband, and with good cause, as his after-conductshowed. She did not run away from him."
"Nay, she had doubtless the assistance of a carriage-and-six. She wouldscarce foot it from London to Dover. And now she is leading grand train inParis, and has taken almost as commanding a place as her friend Madame deLongueville, penitent and retired from service."
"Hyacinth, under all her appearance of silliness, is a remarkably cleverwoman," said Lady Sarah, sententiously; "but, pray, Sir Ralph, if MistressAngela's father has good reason for not prosecuting his daughter'slover--indeed I ever thought her an underhand hussy--why does not SirDenzil Warner--who I hear has been at death's door--pursue him for assaultand battery?"
"Nay, is so still, madam. I question if he be yet out of danger. Thegentleman is a kind of puritanical Quixote, and has persistently refused toswear an information against Fareham, whereby I doubt the case will fallthrough, or his lordship get off with a fine of a thousand or two. We haveno longer the blessing of a Star Chamber,
to supply state needs out ofsinners' pockets, and mitigate general taxation; but his Majesty's Judgeshave a capacious stomach for fines, and his Majesty has no objection to seehis subjects' misdemeanours transmuted into coin."
And now the business of the day began, the panelled enclosure being bythis time crowded almost to suffocation; and Lord Fareham was brought intocourt.
He was plainly dressed in a dark grey suit, and looked ten years olderthan when Lady Sarah had last seen him on his wife's visiting day, anuninterested member of that modish assembly. His eyes were deeper sunkenunder the strongly marked brows. The threads of iron-grey in his thickblack hair were more conspicuous. He carried his head higher than he hadbeen accustomed to carry it, and the broad shoulders were no longer bent inthe Stafford stoop. The spectators could see that he had braced himself forthe ordeal, and would go through the day's work like a man of iron.
Proclamation was made for silence, and for information, if any person couldgive any, concerning the misdemeanour and offence whereof the defendantstood impeached; and the defendant was bid to look to his challenges, andthe Jury, being gentlemen of the county of Bucks, were called, challenged,and sworn.
The demand for silence was so far obeyed that there followed a hush withinthe enclosure of the court; but there was no cessation of the buzz ofvoices and the tramp of footsteps in the hall, which mingled sounds seemedlike the rise and fall of a human ocean, as heard within that panelledsanctuary.
The lawyers took snuff, shuffled on their seats, nudged each other andwhispered now and then, during the reading of the indictment; but amongLady Fareham's friends, and the quality in general, there was a breathlesssilence and expectancy; and Lady Sarah would gladly have run her hat-pininto a snuffy old Serjeant close beside her, who must needs talk behind hishand to his pert junior.
To her ladyship's unaccustomed ears that indictment, translated literallyfrom the Latin original, sounded terrible as an impeachment in thesubterranean halls of the Vehm Gericht, or in the most select and secretcouncil in the Venetian Doge's Palace.
The indictment set forth "that the defendant, Richard Revel, Baron Fareham,on the 4th day of July, in the 18th year of our sovereign lord the Kingthat now is, at the parish of St. Nicholas in the Vale, in the county ofBucks, falsely, unlawfully, unjustly, and wickedly, by unlawful and impureways and means, contriving, practising, and intending the final ruin anddestruction of Mrs. Angela Kirkland, unmarried, and one of the daughtersof Sir John Kirkland, Knight--the said lady then and there being underthe custody, government, and education of the said Sir John Kirkland, herfather--he, the said Richard Revel, Baron Fareham, then and there falsely,unlawfully, devilishly, to fulfil, perfect, and bring to effect, his mostwicked, impious, and devilish intentions aforesaid--the said Richard Revel,Lord Fareham (then and long before, and yet, being the husband of Mrs.Hyacinth, another daughter of the said Sir John Kirkland, Knight, andsister of the said Mrs. Angela), against all laws as well divine as human,impiously, wickedly, impurely, and scandalously, did tempt, invite, andsolicit, and by false and lying pretences, oaths, and affirmations,unlawfully, unjustly, and without the leave, and against the will of theaforesaid Sir John Kirkland, Knight, in prosecution of his most wickedintent aforesaid, did carry off the aforesaid Mrs. Angela, she consentingin ignorance of his real purpose, about the hour of twelve in thenight-time of the said 4th day of July, in the year aforesaid, and at theaforesaid, parish of St. Nicholas in the Vale, in the county of Bucksaforesaid, out of the dwelling-house of the said Sir John Kirkland, Knight,did take and convey to his own house in the county of Oxford, and did thenand there detain her by fraud, and did there keep her hidden in a secretchamber known as the Priest's Hole in his own house aforesaid, at thehazard of her life, and did oppose her rescue by force of arms, and withhis sword, unlawfully, murderously, and devilishly, and in the prosecutionof his wicked purpose did stab and wound Sir Denzil Warner, Baronet, thelady's betrothed husband, from which murderous assault the said Sir DenzilWarner, Baronet, still lies in great sickness and danger of death, to thegreat displeasure of Almighty God, to the ruin and destruction of the saidMrs. Angela Kirkland, to the grief and sorrow of all her friends, andto the evil and most pernicious example of all others in the like caseoffending; and against the peace of our said sovereign lord the King, hiscrown and dignity."
The defendant having pleaded "Not guilty," the Jury were charged in theusual manner and with all solemnity.
"If you find him 'guilty' you are to say so; if you find him 'not guilty'you are to say so, and no more, and hear your evidence."
The Attorney-General confined himself to a brief out-line of the tragicstory, leaving all details to be developed by the witnesses, who wereallowed to give their evidence with colloquial freedom and expansiveness.
The first witness was old Reuben, the steward from the Manor Moat, who hadnot yet emerged from that mental maze in which he had found himself uponbeholding the change that had come to pass in the great city, since thewell-remembered winter of the King's execution, and the long frost, whenhe, Reuben, was last in London. His evidence was confused and confusing;and he drew upon himself much good-natured ridicule from the junior whoopened the case. Out of various muddle-headed answers and contradictorystatements the facts of Lord Fareham's unexpected appearance at the ManorMoat, his account of his lady's illness, and his hurried departure,carrying the young madam with him on horseback, were elicited, and thestory of the ruse by which Mrs. Angela Kirkland had been beguiled from herhome was made clear to the comprehension of a superior but rustic jury,more skilled in discriminating the points of a horse, the qualities of anox, or the capacity of a hound, than in differentiating truth and falsehoodin a story of wrong-doing.
Sir John Kirkland was the next witness, and the aspect of the man, thenoble grey head, fine features, and soldierly carriage, the old-fashionedhabit, the fashion of an age not long past, but almost forgotten, enlistedthe regard and compassion of Jury and audience.
"Let me perish if it is not a ghost from the civil wars!" whispered SirRalph to Lady Sarah. "Mrs. Angela might well be romanesque and unlike therest of us, with such a father."
A spasm of pain convulsed Fareham's face for a moment, as the old Cavalierstood up in the witness-box, towering above the Court in that elevatedposition, and, after being sworn, took one swift survey of the Bench andJury, and then fixed his angry gaze upon the defendant, and scarcelyshifted it in the whole course of his examination.
"Now, Gentlemen of the Jury," said the Attorney-General, "we shall tell youwhat happened at Chilton Abbey, to which place the defendant, under suchfraudulent and lying pretences as you have heard of from the last witness,conveyed the young lady. Sir John, I will ask you to acquaint the Juryas fully and straightforwardly as you can with the circumstances of yourpursuit, and the defendant's reception of you and your intended son-in-law,Sir Denzil Warner, whose deposition we have failed to obtain, but who couldrelate no facts which are not equally within your own knowledge."
"My words shall be straight and plain, sir, to denounce that unchristianwretch whom, until this miserable business, I trusted as if he had been myson. I came to my house, accompanied by my daughter's plighted husband,within an hour after that villain conveyed her away; and on hearing my oldservant's story was quick to suspect treachery. Nor was Sir Denzil backwardin his fears, which were more instantaneous than mine; and we waited onlyfor the saddling of fresh horses, and rousing a couple of grooms fromtheir beds, fellows that I could trust for prudence and courage, before wemounted again, following in that wretch's track. We heard of him and hisvictim at the Inn where they changed horses, she going consentingly,believing she was being taken in this haste to attend a dying sister."
"And on arriving at the defendant's house what was your reception?"
"He opposed our entrance, until he saw that we should batter down his doorif he shut us out longer. We were not admitted until after I had sent oneof my servants for the nearest Constable; and before we had gained anentrance into hi
s house he had contrived to put away my daughter in awretched hiding-place, planned for the concealment of Romish Priests orother recusants and malefactors, and would have kept her there, I believe,till she had perished in that foul cavern, rather than restore her to herfather and natural guardian."
"That is false, and you know it!" cried Fareham. "My life is of lessaccount to me than a hair of her head. I hid her from you, to save her fromyour tyranny, and the hateful marriage to which you would have compelledher."
"Liar! Impudent, barbarous liar!" roared the old Knight, with his right armraised, and his body half out of the box, as if he would have assaultedthe defendant. "Sir John," said the Judge, "I would be very loath to dealotherwise than becomes me with a person of your quality; but, indeed, thisis not so handsome, and we must desire you to be calm."
"When I remember his infamy, and that vile assumption of my daughter'spassion for him, which he showed in every word and act of that miserablescene."
He went on to relate the searching of the house, and Warner's happyinspiration, by which Angela's hiding-place was discovered, and she rescuedin a fainting condition. He described the defendant's audacious attemptto convey her to the coach which stood ready for her abduction, and hisviolence in opposing her rescue, and the fight which had well-nigh resultedin Warner's death.
When Sir John's story was finished the defendant's advocate, who haddeclined to question the old butler, rose to cross-examine this moreimportant witness.
"In your tracing of the defendant's journey between your house and Chiltonyou heard of no outcries of resistance upon your daughter's side?"
"No, sir. She went willingly, under a delusion."
"And do you think now, sir, as a man of the world, and with some knowledgeof women, that your daughter was so easily hoodwinked; she having seen hersister, Lady Fareham, so shortly before, in good health and spirits?"
"Lady Fareham did not appear in good health when she was last at the Manor,and her sister was already uneasy about her."
"But not so uneasy as to believe her dying, and that it was needful to rideto her helter-skelter in the night-time. Do you not think, sir, that theyoung lady, who was so quick to comply with his lordship's summons, andbustled up and was in the saddle ten minutes after he entered the house,and was willing to got without her own woman, or any preparation fortravel, had a strong inclination for the journey, and a great kindness forthe gentleman who solicited her company?"
"Has that barbarous wretch set you on to slander the lady whose ruin hesought, sir?" asked the Knight, pallid with the white heat of indignation.
"Nay, Sir John, I am no slanderer; but I want the Jury to understand thesentiments and passions which are the springs of action here, and to bearin mind that the case they are hearing is a love story, and they can onlycome at the truth by remembering their own experience as lovers--"
The deep and angry tones of his client interrupted the silvery-tonguedCounsellor.
"If you think to help me, sir, by traducing the lady, I repudiate youradvocacy."
"My lord, you are not allowed to give evidence or to interrupt the Court.You have pleaded not guilty, and it is my duty to demonstrate yourinnocence. Come, Sir John, do you not know that his lordship's unhappypassion for his sister-in-law was shared by the subject of it; and that shefor a long time opposed all your efforts to bring about a proper alliancefor her, solely guided and influenced by this secret passion?"
"I know no such thing."
"Do I understand, then, that from the time of your first proposals she waswilling to marry Sir Denzil Warner?"
"She was not willing."
"I would have wagered as much. Did you fathom her reason for declining soproper an alliance?"
"I did not trouble myself about her reasons. I knew that time would wearthem away."
"And I doubt you trusted to a father's authority?"
"No, sir. I promised my daughter that I would not force her inclinations."
"But you used all methods of persuasion. How long was it before July the4th that Mrs. Angela consented to marry Sir Denzil?"
"I cannot be over precise upon that point. I have no record of the date."
"But you have the faculty of memory, sir; and this is a point which afather would not easily forget."
"It may have been a fortnight before."
"And until that time the lady was unwilling?"
"Yes."
"She refused positively to accept the match you urged upon her?"
"She refused."
"And finally consented, I will wager, with marked reluctance?"
"No, sir, there was no reluctance. She came to me of her own accord, andsurprised me by her submission."
"That will do, Sir John. You can stand down. I shall now proceed to call awitness who will convince the Jury of my client's innocence upon the firstand chief count in the indictment, abduction with fraud and violence. Ishall tell you by the lips of my witness, that if he took the lady awayfrom her home, she being of full age, she went freely consenting, and withknowledge of his purpose."
"Lies--foul lies!" cried the old Cavalier, almost strangled with passion.
He plucked at the knot of his cravat, trying to loosen it, feeling himselfthreatened with apoplexy.
"Call Mistress Angela Kirkland," said the Serjeant, in strong steady tonesthat contrasted with the indignant father's hoarse and gasping utterance.
"S'life! the business becomes every moment more interesting," whisperedLady Sarah. "Will he make that sly slut own her misconduct in open court?"
"If she blush at her slip from virtue, it will be a new sensation in aLondon law-court to see the colour of shame," replied Sir Ralph, behind hisperfumed glove; "but I warrant she'll carry matters with a high hand, andfeel herself every inch a heroine."
Angela came into the court attended by her waiting-woman, who remained nearthe entrance, amid the close-packed crowd of lawyers and onlookers, whileher mistress quietly followed the official who conducted her to thewitness-box.
She was dressed in black, and her countenance under her neat black hoodlooked scarcely less white than her lawn neckerchief; but she stood erectand unfaltering in that conspicuous station, and met the eyes of herinterrogator with an untroubled gaze. When her lips had touched the dirtylittle book, greasy with the kisses of innumerable perjurers, the Serjeantbegan to question her in a tone of odious familiarity.
"Now, my dear young lady, here is a gentleman's liberty, and perhaps hislife, hanging on the breath of those pretty lips; so I want you to answera few plain questions with as plain speech as you can command, rememberingthat you are to tell us the truth, and the whole truth, and nothing but thetruth. Come, now, dear miss, when you left your father's house on the nightof July 4, in this present year, in Lord Fareham's company, did you go withhim of your own free will, and with a knowledge of his purpose?"
"I knew that he loved me."
A heart-breaking groan from Sir John Kirkland was hushed down by an usherof the court.
"You knew that he loved you, and that he designed to carry you beyondseas?"
"Yes."
"And you were willing to leave your father's custody and go with thedefendant as his paramour?"
There was a pause, and the white cheek crimsoned, and the heavy eyelidsfell over agonised eyes.
"I went willingly--because I loved him;" and then with a sudden burst ofpassion, "I would have died for him, or lived for him. It mattered notwhich."
"And she has lied for him--has sworn to a lie--and that to her owndishonour!" cried Sir John, beside himself; whereupon he was sternly biddento keep silence.
There was no intention that this little Buckinghamshire gentleman shouldbe indulged, to the injury of a person of Lord Fareham's wealth andconsequence. The favour of the Bench obviously leant towards the defendant.
Fareham's deep tones startled the audience.
"In truth, your Honour, the young lady has belied herself in order to helpme," he said. "I cannot accept acquittal at
the cost of her good name."
"Your lordship has pleaded not guilty."
"And his lordship's chivalry would revoke that plea," cried the Counsel;"this is most irregular. I must beg that the Bench do order the defendantto keep silence. The witness can stand down."
Angela descended from the witness-box falteringly, and would perhaps havefallen but for her father's strong grasp, which clutched her arm as shereached the last step.
He dragged her out of the close-packed court, and into the open Hall.
"Wanton!" he hissed in her ear, "shameless wanton!"
She answered nothing; but stood where he held her, with wild eyes lookingout of a white, rigid countenance. She had done what she had come thereto do. Persuaded by Fareham's attorney, who had waited upon her at herlodgings when Sir John was out of the way, she had made her ill-consideredattempt to save the man she loved, ignorant of the extent of his danger,exaggerating the potential severity of his punishment, in the illimitablefear of a woman for the safety of the being she loves. And now she carednothing what became of her, cared little even for her father's anger ordistress. There was always the Convent, last refuge of sin or sorrow, whichmeant the annihilation of the individual, and where the world's praise orblame had no influence.
Her woman fussed about her with a bottle of strong essence, and Sir Johndragged rather than led her along the Hall, to the great door where thecoach that had carried her from his London lodgings was in waiting. He sawher seated, with her woman beside her, supporting her, gave the coachmanhis orders, and then went hastily back to the Court of King's Bench.
The Court was rising; the Jury, without leaving their seats, had pronouncedthe defendant guilty of a misdemeanour, not in conveying Sir JohnKirkland's daughter away from her home, to which act she had avowed herselfa consenting party; but in detaining her in his house with violence, andin opposition to her father and proper guardian. The Lord Chief Justiceexpressed his satisfaction at this verdict, and after expatiating withpious horror upon the evil consequences of an ungovernable passion, aguilty, soul-destroying love, a direct inspiration of Satan, sentenced thedefendant to pay a fine of ten thousand pounds, upon the payment of whichsum he would be set at liberty.
The old Cavalier heard the brief sermon and the sentence, which seemed tohim of all punishments the most futile. He had hoped to see his son-in-lawsent to the Plantations for life; had been angry at the thought that hewould escape the gallows; and for sole penalty the seducer was sentenced toforfeit less than a year's income. How corrupt and venal was a benchthat made the law of the land a nullity when a great personage was thelaw-breaker!
He flung himself in the defendant's way as he left the court, and struckhim across the breast with the flat of his sword.
"An unarmed man, Sir John! Is that your old-world chivalry?" Fareham asked,quietly.
A crowd was round them and swords were drawn before the officer couldinterfere. There were friends of Fareham's in the court, and two of hisgentlemen; and Sir John, who was alone, might have been seriously hurtbefore the authorities could put down the tumult, had not his son-in-lawprotected him.
"Sheath your swords, if you love me!" he exclaimed, flinging himself infront of Sir John. "I would not have the slightest violence offered to thisgentleman."
"And I would kill you if I had the chance!" cried Sir John; "that is thedifference between us. I keep no measures with the man who ruined mydaughter."
"Your daughter is as spotless a saint as the day she left her Convent, andyou are a blatant old fool to traduce her," said Fareham, exasperated, asthe Usher led him away.
His detention was no more than a formality; and as he had been previouslyallowed his liberty upon bail, he was now permitted to return to hisown house, where by an order upon his banker he paid the fine, and washenceforward a free man.
The first use he made of his freedom was to rush to Sir John's lodgings,only to hear that the Cavalier, with his daughter and two servants, hadleft half an hour earlier in a coach-and-four for Buckinghamshire. Thepeople at the lodgings did not know which road they had taken, or at whatInn they were to lie on the way.
"Well, there will be a better chance of seeing her at the Manor than inLondon," Fareham thought; "he cannot keep so close a watch upon her thereas in the narrow space of town lodgings."
London Pride, Or, When the World Was Younger Page 26