So now we knew all that my mother could tell us, and there was nothing for us to do but resolve upon some plan of action.
“They have three days’ start of us,” said Philip sadly. “And the land is wide enough for them to have gone in many a different direction before we can have news of them. However, we must to horse, Will, and do what we can to find my poor girl.”
“Which way shall we go?” I asked, feeling almost hopeless, so black did matters look.
“It was nine in the morning when they started out,” said my mother, “and they rode southward, going towards Sheffield, whereabouts, they said, Master Lisle lay dying.”
“Then towards Sheffield we must ride,” said Philip, “asking for tidings of them as we go along. Pray God we may be successful!”
We did not tarry long at Dale’s Field, save to eat a hasty meal and to put some food in our saddlebags, and soon we were in the saddle again and hastening through the night along the Great North Road. The toll-keeper at Barnsdale Bar was hard and fast asleep, but we roused him at last and made inquiry of him as to the three travellers we sought. His brains were somewhat confused at first, but after a while he remembered the three we spoke of, and told us they had gone forward without saying aught to him of their destination. Thus far we were right, and so we continued until we came near Doncaster, several toll-bar men and innkeepers remembering Rose and the two messengers passing that way.
“We are like to spend a good deal of time without result in Doncaster,” said Philip. “There are so many inns in the place, and when we have found the right one, there are so many various roads to choose from. How shall we find what road they have taken after passing through here, if, indeed, they have not turned aside before coming to the town?”
But I thought and said that the men, whatever their design might be, would have taken Rose towards Sheffield for the reason that she knew whither they intended professedly to conduct her and would have become suspicious if they had turned their horses’ heads in any other direction. And my conclusions in this matter proved correct, for we had little difficulty in finding news of them at Doncaster, where they had rested to bait their horses, afterwards resuming their journey towards Sheffield by the road that leads past Conisbrough and Rotherham. Along this road, then, we continued our pursuit, inquiring at every inn and toll-bar for news, which we sometimes got and sometimes failed to procure.
Now, it had been on my mind ever since leaving Dale’s Field to tell Philip Lisle of my suspicions respecting Captain Trevor, and I had only been held back from doing so by fear of unjustly coupling an honest man’s name with dishonourable conduct. But at last it seemed to me well to let Philip know of all that was in my mind, so when we stayed at Conisbrough to breathe our horses I took him aside and unbosomed myself, asking him to tell me candidly what he thought of the matter.
“Alas, Will,” said he, “I know not what to think. I know little of this Trevor, except that he hath been a brave officer and was formerly much about the Court in London. But, as thou knowest, these gallants are not always to be trusted, however brave they may be in battle, and ’tis possible that he hath done this, more especially as you sayhe conceived some passion for Rose before he left you. Nay, I know not what to say. We can only push our journey forward.”
So we went on towards Sheffield, now and then finding someone who remembered the passing of the three we sought. It was now afternoon, and our horses, which had been almost continually on the stretch since ten o’clock of the previous evening, were beginning to show signs of fatigue. We had not put them to any great amount of exertion, for we had spent much time in making inquiry at the roadside inns and toll-bars, but the day was exceedingly hot and they had had no proper rest or feed since leaving Pontefract Castle, where their rations had been none of the best for weeks past. At the next wayside inn, then, which stood halfway between Thrybergh and Rotherham, we drew rein and stabled our steeds, after which we entered the house to find some food for ourselves.
We had hardly entered the kitchen of the inn, when I suddenly started with surprise to see Dennis Watson, seated in company with another man, who was evidently a cattle-drover, at a little table near the window. But as I knew that the Watsons did something in the way of cattle-dealing in those parts, I reflected that Dennis was probably there on his own business, and went forward to another part of the kitchen, taking no more notice of him than to give him a cold nod of my head. While Philip and myself were resting and drinking, he and the drover completed their business, and the latter, having received some money from Dennis, shortly bade us all good day and went out. Dennis continued to sit and stare at us, bestowing the greater part of his attention on Philip Lisle, and after a time, when we gave signs of moving, he came over to the table where we sat and spoke to me.
“I would like to speak a word to you, Master Dale,” said he, bending over the table with his eyes fixed on mine.
“You can speak,” I said, little caring what he had to say, and not desirous of having aught to do with him.
“I don’t speak before strangers,” said
