‘By your courtesy, sir, a word with you in the inn yard, if you please,’ he said to Weyburn in the inn-porch.

Weyburn answered, ‘Half a minute,’ and was informed that it was exactly the amount of time the captain could afford to wait.

Weyburn had seen the Steignton phaeton and coachman in the earl’s light-blue livery.  It was at his orders, he heard.  He told the coachman to expect hire shortly, and he followed the captain, with a heavy trifle of suspicion that some brew was at work.  He said to Aminta in the passage—­

’You have your settlement with the innkeeper.  Don’t, I beg, step into the chariot till you see me.’

‘Anything?’ said she.

‘Only prudence.’

‘Our posting horses will be harnessed soon, I hope.  I burn to get away.’

Mrs. Pagnell paid the bill at the bar of the inn.  Morsfield poured out for the injured countess or no-countess a dram of the brandy of passion, under the breath.

’Deny that you singled me once for your esteem.  Hardest-hearted of the women of earth and dearest! deny that you gave me reason to hope—­and now!  I have ridden in your track all this way for the sight of you, as you know, and you kill me with frost.  Yes, I rejoice that we were seen together.  Look on me.  I swear I perish for one look of kindness.  You have been shamefully used, madam.’

‘It seems to me I am being so,’ said Aminta, cutting herself loose from the man of the close eyes that wavered as they shot the dart.

Her action was too decided for him to follow her up under the observation of the inn windows and a staring street.

Mrs. Pagnell came out.  She went boldly to Morsfield and they conferred.  He was led by her to the chariot, where she pointed to a small padded slab of a seat back to the horses.  Turning to the bar, he said:—­ My friend will look to my horse.  Both want watering and a bucketful.  There!’—­he threw silver—­’I have to protect the ladies.’

Aminta was at the chariot door talking to her aunt inside.

’But I say I have been insulted—­is the word—­more than enough by Lord Ormont to-day!’ Mrs. Pagnell exclaimed; ’and I won’t, I positively refuse to ride up to London with any servant of his.  It’s quite sufficient that it’s his servant.  I’m not titled, but I ’in not quite dirt.  Mr. Morsfield kindly offers his protection, and I accept.  He is company.’

Nodding and smirking at Morsfield’s approach, she entreated Aminta to step up and in, for the horses were coming out of the yard.

Aminta looked round.  Weyburn was perceived; and Morsfield’s features cramped at thought of a hitch in the plot.

‘Possession,’ Mrs. Pagnell murmured significantly.  She patted the seat.  Morsfield sprang to Weyburn’s place.

That was witnessed by Aminta and Weyburn.  She stepped to consult him.  He said to the earl’s coachman—­a young fellow with a bright eye for orders—­