My indignation, I may almost say, my despair, at this mischievous check to all further progress—­so base and trifling in itself, and yet so disheartening and so serious in its probable results—­quite unfitted me at first to reflect on the best means of extricating myself from the dilemma in which I now stood.  I had the folly to call for writing materials, and to think of privately communicating my real position to the magistrate.  The hopelessness and the imprudence of this proceeding failed to strike me before I had actually written the opening lines of the letter.  It was not till I had pushed the paper away—­not till, I am ashamed to say, I had almost allowed the vexation of my helpless position to conquer me—­that a course of action suddenly occurred to my mind, which Sir Percival had probably not anticipated, and which might set me free again in a few hours.  I determined to communicate the situation in which I was placed to Mr. Dawson, of Oak Lodge.

I had visited this gentleman’s house, it may be remembered, at the time of my first inquiries in the Blackwater Park neighbourhood, and I had presented to him a letter of introduction from Miss Halcombe, in which she recommended me to his friendly attention in the strongest terms.  I now wrote, referring to this letter, and to what I had previously told Mr. Dawson of the delicate and dangerous nature of my inquiries.  I had not revealed to him the truth about Laura, having merely described my errand as being of the utmost importance to private family interests with which Miss Halcombe was concerned.  Using the same caution still, I now accounted for my presence at Knowlesbury in the same manner, and I put it to the doctor to say whether the trust reposed in me by a lady whom he well knew, and the hospitality I had myself received in his house, justified me or not in asking him to come to my assistance in a place where I was quite friendless.

I obtained permission to hire a messenger to drive away at once with my letter in a conveyance which might be used to bring the doctor back immediately.  Oak Lodge was on the Knowlesbury side of Blackwater.  The man declared he could drive there in forty minutes, and could bring Mr. Dawson back in forty more.  I directed him to follow the doctor wherever he might happen to be, if he was not at home, and then sat down to wait for the result with all the patience and all the hope that I could summon to help me.

It was not quite half-past one when the messenger departed.  Before half-past three he returned, and brought the doctor with him.  Mr. Dawson’s kindness, and the delicacy with which he treated his prompt assistance quite as a matter of course, almost overpowered me.  The bail required was offered, and accepted immediately.  Before four o’clock, on that afternoon, I was shaking hands warmly with the good old doctor—­a free man again—­ in the streets of Knowlesbury.