‘Ay, but they never—­came to Chipnam,’ the fellow answered, leering at him with drunken wisdom.  ‘D’you see that, master?’

‘Which way, then?’ Soane cried impatiently.  ‘Which way did they go?’

But the man only lurched a step nearer.  ‘That’s telling!’ he said with a beery smile.  ‘You want to be—­as wise as I be!’

Jeremy, the guard, seized him by the collar and shook him.  ’You drunken fool!’ he said.  ’D’ye know that this is Sir George Soane of Estcombe?  Answer him, you swine, or you’ll be in the cage in a one, two!’

‘You let me be,’ the man whined, straggling to release himself.  ’It’s no business of yours,’ Let me be, master!’

Sir George raised his whip in his wrath, but lowered it again with a groan.  ‘Can no one make him speak?’ he said, looking round.  The man was staggering and lurching in the guard’s grasp.

‘His wife, but she is to Marshfield, nursing her sister,’ answered one.  ’But give him his guinea, Sir George.  ‘Twill save time maybe.’

Soane flung it to him.  ‘There!’ he said.  ‘Now speak!’

‘That’sh better,’ the man muttered.  ’That’s talking!  Now I’ll tell you.  You go back to Devizes Corner—­corner of the road to De-vizes—­you understand?  There was a car—­car—­carriage there without lights an hour back.  It was waiting under the hedge.  I saw it, and I—­I know what’s what!’

Sir George flung a guinea to the guard, and wheeled his horse about.  In the act of turning his eye fell on the lawyer’s steed, which, chosen for sobriety rather than staying powers, was on the point of foundering.  ‘Get another,’ he cried, ‘and follow!’

Mr. Fishwick uttered a wail of despair.  To be left to follow—­to follow alone, in the dark, through unknown roads, with scarce a clue and on a strange horse—­the prospect might have appalled a hardier soul.  He was saved from it by Sir George’s servant, a stolid silent man, who might be warranted to ride twenty miles without speaking.  ‘Here, take mine, sir,’ he said.  ’I must stop to get a lanthorn; we shall need one now.  Do you go with his honour.’

Mr. Fishwick slid down and was hoisted into the other’s saddle.  By the time this was done Sir George was almost lost in the gloom eat the farther end of the street.  But anything rather than be left behind.  The lawyer laid on his whip in a way that would have astonished him a few hours before, and overtook his leader as he emerged from the town.  They rode without speaking until they had retraced their steps to the foot of the hill, and could discern a little higher on the ascent the turn for Devizes.

It is possible that Sir George hoped to find the chaise still lurking in the shelter of the hedge; for as he rode up to the corner he drew a pistol from his holster, and took his horse by the head.  If so, he was disappointed.  The moon had risen high and its cold light disclosed the whole width of the roadway, leaving no place in which even a dog could lie hidden.  Nor as far as the eye could travel along the pale strip of road that ran southward was any movement or sign of life.