It might have been the dropping of water from the cottage roofs while I passed through the village, or the groundless alarm of my own suspicious fancy, but I thought I was being followed as I walked back to the inn.  Two or three times I turned round abruptly.  If twenty men had been at my heels, it was too dark to see them.  I went on to the inn.

The people there were not gone to bed; and I sent for the landlord to consult with him about a conveyance.  Perhaps it was my suspicious fancy again; but I thought his manner was altered.  He seemed half distrustful, half afraid of me, when I asked him if there had been any signs, during my absence, of those two gentlemen, for whom I had already inquired on arriving at his door that evening.  He gave an answer in the negative, looking away from me while he spoke.

Thinking it advisable, on the whole, not to let him see that I noticed a change in him, I proceeded at once to the question of the conveyance, and was told that I could hire the landlord’s light cart, in which he was accustomed to drive to the market town.  I appointed an hour for starting the next day, and retired at once to my bedroom.  There my thoughts were enough.  I was anxious about Screw and the Bow Street runner.  I was uncertain about the stranger who had called at Number Two, Zion Place.  I was in doubt even about the landlord of the inn.  Never did I know what real suffering from suspense was, until that night, Whatever my apprehensions might have been, they were none of them realized the next morning.

Nobody followed me on my way to Zion Place, and no stranger had called there before me a second time, when I made inquiries on entering the house.  I found Alicia blushing, and Mrs. Baggs impenetrably wrapped up in dignified sulkiness.  After informing me with a lofty look that she intended to go to Scotland with us, and to take my five-pound note—­partly under protest, and partly out of excessive affection for Alicia—­she retired to pack up.  The time consumed in performing this process, and the further delay occasioned by paying small outstanding debts to tradespeople, and settling with the owner of the house, detained us till nearly noon before we were ready to get into the landlord’s cart.

I looked behind me anxiously at starting, and often afterward on the road; but never saw anything to excite my suspicions.  In settling matters with the landlord over night, I had arranged that we should be driven to the nearest town at which a post-chaise could be obtained.  My resources were just as likely to hold out against the expenses of posting, where public conveyances could not be obtained, as against the expense of waiting privately at hotels, until the right coaches might start.  According to my calculations, my money would last till we got to Scotland.  After that, I had my watch, rings, shirtpin, and Mr. Batterbury, to help in replenishing my purse.  Anxious, therefore, as I was about other things, money matters, for once in a way, did not cause me the smallest uneasiness.