“Ah, you are thinking of the Amiens road.”

“Yes, of course; and is not this the Amiens road?”

“Oh, no; the Amiens road lies beyond those low hills to the right.  You passed the turn at the first ’barriere’.”

“Is it possible we could have come wrong?”

“Oh, Mr. Lorrequer, don’t say so, I entreat of you.”

“And what road is this, then, my friend?”

“This is the road to Albert and Peronne.”

“Unfortunately, I believe he is quite right.  Is there any crossroad from the village before us now, to the Amiens road?”

“Yes; you can reach it about three leagues hence.”

“And we can get a carriage at the inn probably?”

“Ah, that I am not sure of—.  Perhaps at the Lion d’or you may.”

“But why not go back to Abbeville?”

“Oh, Mrs. Bingham must have left long since, and beside you forget the distance; we have been walking two hours.”

“Now for the village,” said I, as I drew my friend’s arm closer within mine, and we set out in a fast walk.

Isabella seemed terribly frightened at the whole affair; what her mamma might think, and what might be her fears at not finding us on the road, and a hundred other encouraging reflections of this nature she poured forth unceasingly.  As for myself, I did not know well what to think of it; my old fondness for adventure being ever sufficiently strong in me to give a relish to any thing which bore the least resemblance to one.  This I now concealed, and sympathised with my fair friend upon our mishap, and assuring her, at the same time, that there could be no doubt of our overtaking Mrs. Bingham before her arrival at Amiens.

“Ah, there is the village in the valley; how beautifully situated.”

“Oh, I can’t admire any thing now, Mr. Lorrequer, I am so frightened.”

“But surely without cause,” said I, looking tenderly beneath her bonnet.

“Is this,” she answered, “nothing,” and we walked on in silence again.

On reaching the Lion d’or we discovered that the only conveyance to be had was a species of open market-cart drawn by two horses, and in which it was necessary that my fair friend and myself should seat ourselves side by side upon straw:  there was no choice, and as for Miss Bingham, I believe if an ass with panniers had presented itself, she would have preferred it to remaining where she was.  We therefore took our places, and she could not refrain from laughing as we set out upon our journey in this absurd equipage, every jolt of which threw us from side to side, and rendered every attention on my part requisite to prevent her being upset.

After about two hours’ travelling we arrived at the Amiens road, and stopped at the barriere.  I immediately inquired if a carriage had passed, resembling Mrs. Bingham’s, and learned that it had, about an hour before, and that the lady in it had been informed that two persons, like those she asked after, had been seen in a caleche driving rapidly to Amiens, upon which she set out as fast as possible in pursuit.