I began to think whether it would be best to trust boldly in my disguise, and my lucky position outside the coach, or whether I should abandon my fellow-passengers immediately.  It was not easy to settle at once which course was the safest—­so I tried the effect of looking at my two alternatives from another point of view.  Should I risk everything, and go on resolutely to Crickgelly, on the chance of discovering that Alicia and Miss Giles were one and the same person—­or should I give up on the spot the only prospect of finding my lost mistress, and direct my attention entirely to the business of looking after my own safety?

As the latter alternative practically resolved itself into the simple question of whether I should act like a man who was in love, or like a man who was not, my natural instincts settled the difficulty in no time.  I boldly imitated the example of my fellow-passengers, and went in to dinner, determined to go on afterward to Crickgelly, though all Bow Street should be following at my heels.

CHAPTER XIII.

SECURE as I tried to feel in my change of costume, my cropped hair, and my whiskerless cheeks, I kept well away from the coach-window, when the dinner at the inn was over and the passengers were called to take their places again.  Thus far—­thanks to the strength of my grasp on his neck, which had left him too weak to be an outside passenger—­Screw had certainly not seen me; and, if I played my cards properly, there was no reason why he should see me before we got to our destination.

Throughout the rest of the journey I observed the strictest caution, and fortune seconded my efforts.  It was dark when we got to Shrewsbury.  On leaving the coach I was enabled, under cover of the night, to keep a sharp watch on the proceedings of Screw and his Bow Street ally.  They did not put up at the hotel, but walked away to a public house.  There, my clerical character obliged me to leave them at the door.

I returned to the hotel, to make inquiries about conveyances.

The answers informed me that Crickgelly was a little fishing-village, and that there was no coach direct to it, but that two coaches running to two small Welsh towns situated at nearly equal distances from my destination, on either side of it, would pass through Shrewsbury the next morning.  The waiter added, that I could book a place—­conditionally—­by either of these vehicles; and that, as they were always well-filled, I had better be quick in making my choice between them.  Matters had now arrived at such a pass, that nothing was left for me but to trust to chance.  If I waited till the morning to see whether Screw and the Bow Street runner traveled in my direction, and to find out, in case they did, which coach they took, I should be running the risk of losing a place for myself, and so delaying my journey for another day.  This was not to be thought of.  I told the waiter to book me a place in which coach he pleased.  The two were called respectively The Humming Bee, and The Red Cross Knight.  The waiter chose the latter.