Once on the other side there was no delay.  The horses were in waiting, and seizing the bridle of one, Manners helped Dorothy to mount into the saddle, and then lightly springing into another, he set spurs to his steed and away they started.

The most sequestered roads were chosen, for they wished to see as few people as possible, and to be seen by none.  But Manners did not trust to this alone.  He felt the preciousness of his charge, and had brought horses and men with him, whom he sent off in couples by different roads, to lead their pursuers on a false scent if pursuit were made.

All through the night they rode.  Scenes which charmed them before they now passed by unnoticed, and their grandeur was ignored.  Masson’s heights, up which they had often wandered together, instilled no pleasant thoughts within their breasts now; their one object, which engrossed all their attention, was to hasten forward to gain a haven of safety.

As the grey light of the morning broke upon them, and the rising sun began to make its appearance, they crossed the border, and passed out of the county of Derby into the neighbouring shire of Leicester.  Still they pushed on, for there was no telling how soon their pursuers might be upon them; nor did they draw rein until well into the morning, when, though Dorothy, animated for the time being with a wonderful amount of endurance, gave her voice for hastening forward, Manners deemed it advisable, for her sake, to stay.

They stopped their steeds at a wayside inn, but here so unusual a sight as two travellers on horseback—­one a maiden of surpassing beauty, clothed in rare and costly silks, and the other a gallant young knight—­soon caused a little crowd of curious rustics to congregate around the house.

“Poor lady,” exclaimed one tender-hearted matron, as she watched Dorothy dismount.  “She is of gentle blood; just see how weary she looks.”

“Didst ever see the likes of such a riding dress afore?” asked her neighbour, as she eyed Doll’s dress admiringly.

“Beshrew me,” added an onlooker of the sterner sex, “’tis a runaway match, I’ll warrant me.  These horses are ridden to death.”

Neither Dorothy nor Manners was disposed to stay any longer than was necessary amid such a curious people, and after partaking of a good breakfast, and indulging in a little rest, they started on their way again, with a fresh relay of horses.

This time they never stopped until they rode up to the little church, within which the shivering clergyman sat, anxiously awaiting the couple whom he had engaged to marry.

He was ignorant of the plot, and though he might have guessed it pretty well, he was by no means anxious to lose by over-inquisitiveness the handsome fee which the young man had promised.  He only chafed at their delay, and when at length they arrived and entered the sacred edifice he proceeded straightway with the service, quite as anxious to get it over, so that he might partake of his breakfast, as were the couple before him, and almost as quickly as they could have wished.