Caldigate appeared before the house at nine o’clock, no further attempt having been made to exclude his entrance by the side gate, and asked to see Mr. Bolton.  ‘Papa is up-stairs,’ said Hester through the window.  But the old man would not come down to see his visitor, nor would he send any message.  Then Caldigate declared his purpose of going at once to the mayor and demanding assistance from the police.  He at any rate would return with the carriage as early as he could after his visit to the magistrates’ office.  He went to the mayor, and inflicted much trouble on that excellent officer, who, however, at last, with the assistance of his clerk,—­and of Robert Bolton, whom he saw on the sly,—­came to the decision that his own authority would not suffice for the breaking open of a man’s house in order that his married daughter should be taken by violence from his custody.  ‘No doubt,’ he said; ‘no doubt,’ when Caldigate pleaded that Mr. Bolton’s daughter was, at any rate for the present, his own wife; and that a man’s right to have his wife is undoubted.  Those words ‘no doubt’ were said very often; but no other words were said.  Then the clerk expressed an opinion that the proper course would be for Mr. Caldigate to go up to London and get an order from the Vice-Chancellor; which was, of course, tantamount to saying that his wife was to remain at Chesterton till after the trial,—­unless she could effect her own escape.

But not on that account was he inclined to yield.  He had felt from the first, as had she also, that she would make her way out of the house, or would not make it, as she might or might not have the courage to be persistent in demanding it.  This, indeed, had been felt both by William and Robert Bolton when they had given their counsel.  ’She is a woman with a baby, and when in your house will be subject to your influences.  She will be very angry at first, but will probably yield after a time to your instructions.  She will at last give an unwilling assent to the course you propose.  That is what may be expected.  But if she should be firmer than we think, if there should be in her bosom a greater power of resistance than we expect, should she dash herself too violently against the cage,—­then you must let her go.’  That was intended to be the gist of the advice given, though it perhaps was not so accurately expressed.  It was in that way understood by the old man; but Mrs. Bolton would not so understand it.  She had taken the matter in hand, and as she pressed her lips together she told herself that she intended to go through with it.