MR. FISHWICK’S DISCOVERY

We left Sir George Soane and his companions stranded in the little alehouse at Bathford, waiting through the small hours of the night for a conveyance to carry them forward to Bristol.  Soap and water, a good meal, and a brief dog’s sleep, in which Soane had no share—­he spent the night walking up and down—­and from which Mr. Fishwick was continually starting with cries and moanings, did something to put them in better plight, if in no better temper.  When the dawn came, and with it the chaise-and-four for which they had sent to Bath, they issued forth haggard and unshaven, but resolute; and long before the shops in Bristol had begun to look for custom, the three, with Sir George’s servant, descended before the old Bush Inn, near the Docks.

The attorney held strongly the opinion that they should not waste a second before seeking the persons whom Mr. Dunborough had employed; the least delay, he urged, and the men might be gone into hiding.  But on this a wrangle took place, in the empty street before the half-roused inn; with a milk-girl and a couple of drunken sailors for witnesses.  Mr. Dunborough, who was of the party will-he, nill-he, and asked nothing better than to take out in churlishness the pressure put upon him, stood firmly to it, he would take no more than one person to the men.  He would take Sir George, if he pleased, but he would take no one else.

‘I’ll have no lawyer to make evidence!’ he cried boastfully.  ’And I’ll take no one but on terms.  I’ll have no Jemmy Twitcher with me.  That’s flat.’

Mr. Fishwick in a great rage was for insisting; but Sir George stopped him.  ‘On what terms?’ he asked the other.

‘If the girl be unharmed, we go unharmed.  One and all!’ Mr. Dunborough answered.  ‘Damme!’ he continued with a great show of bravado, ’do you think I am going to peach on ’em?  Not I. There’s the offer, take it or leave it.’

Sir George might have broken down his opposition by the same arguments addressed to his safety which had brought him so far.  But time was everything, and Soane was on fire to know the best or worst.  ‘Agreed!’ he cried.  ‘Lead the way, sir!  And do you, Mr. Fishwick, await me here.’

‘We must have time,’ Mr. Dunborough grumbled, hesitating, and looking askance at the attorney—­he hated him.  ’I can’t answer for an hour or two.  I know a place, and I know another place, and there is another place.  And they may be at one or another, or the other.  D’you see?’

‘I see that it is your business,’ Sir George answered with a glance, before which the other’s eyes fell.  ’Wait until noon, Mr. Fishwick.  If we have not returned at that hour, be good enough to swear an information against this gentleman, and set the constables to work.’

Mr. Dunborough muttered that it lay on Sir George’s head if ill came of it; but that said, swung sulkily on his heel.  Mr. Fishwick, when the two were some way down the street, ran after Soane, and asked in a whisper if his pistols were primed; when he returned satisfied on that point, the servant, whom he had left at the door of the inn, had vanished.  The lawyer made a shrewd guess that he would have an eye to his master’s safety, and retired into the house with less misgiving.