The sounds of pursuit died away.  Tom looked back, and found himself alone in the fields and copses.  His quick turnings and doublings, and the choice of ground difficult for horses, had served his purpose well.  He was safe, and he had his prize with him.  His heart swelled with pride at the success of his achievement.

In a short while up rode Lord Claud, cool and smiling.

“Well done, Tom; that was gallantly done.  But we have lost one of our good steeds, and you have lost your mask.  I trust that none saw your face?”

“It came off when the horse plunged and reared, and I was cumbered with the moneybags,” answered Tom.  “Yet I doubt if any who saw me would know my face again; the soot upon my forehead at least would make it hard to be sure of the face.  And none were very nigh at hand.”

“Give me the bags, and take you my stirrup, and we will wend our way back as fast as may be.  You can run like a hare, Tom, as I have seen well.  Can you run step for step with a trotting horse for some few miles?”

“Try me and see,” answered Tom, who was not a little proud of his powers in this respect; and side by side through the misty summer’s night stepped man and horse, both unwearied and full of courage.  Once Lord Claud insisted upon dismounting and letting Tom ride for a few miles; but for the most part it was Tom who trotted along step for step with the horse, thinking over the events of the night, and exulting in the triumph they had achieved.

They reached the inn outside St. Albans just as the dawn was breaking in the east.  Not a creature was stirring as they stabled the horse and made their way into the house.  Nor did they do this until saddle and bridle and moneybags had been safely locked away in the body of the carriage, which contained a cavity with a secret door, the trick of which seemed known only to Lord Claud.  Then they went to their room, removed all traces of travel from their faces—­as Tom had removed them from the horse in the stable just before—­tied up their clothes in small compass, and got into bed just as the first sound of life began to be heard in the house.

Almost immediately then Lord Claud called loudly for the host, and bade him bring him instantly a hot posset, as he had had a touch of ague in the night.  There was a good deal of bustling to and fro then, and servants passed in and out of the room, seeing both travellers lying peacefully in their beds, as though they had slept there all night.

Lord Claud wrote a short note at once, and handed it to the host with a few whispered directions, to which the man replied with a nod and a wink; and then he took his posset, turned round and slept a while, and rose at the usual hour as though he had no reason for desiring longer rest.