The tone of his voice, and the dread which, in common with all his neighbours, he entertained of Bernard’s character, reduced the loquacious constable to immediate obedience, and, without further parley, he disposed himself in the manner directed. Bernard sprang up behind him, and then, seizing the bridle, clapped spurs to his horse, and set forward for Neville Grange.
By the carriage-road, which was circuitous, the distance was considerable, and occupied him nearly an hour. Ultimately, however, he got over it, and, spurring through the gateway, and up the adjoining avenue, reined up before the hall-door.
The tramp of the horse’s feet, which the hard, dry road carried some distance, quickly brought out several of the servants, and, among them, old Adam Green. That person, to the surprise of the others, recognised Bernard as an acquaintance, and hastened to salute him.
“Are they wedded yet, Master Adam?” asked Bernard, on his approach.
“’Tis now in course,” answered Adam.
Bernard alighted at a bound.
“Down with thee, thou loon!” he cried to the astonished constable, seizing him by the arm:—“down, I say!”
There was no use in resisting, and the constable, maugre the dignity and state of his office, was obliged to give way, and descend to the ground.
“Now, Master Adam, lead us to them!” said Bernard.