Captain Battersby was Lord Rufford's particular friend on this occasion and had come over with him from Mr. Surbiton's house. "Bat," he said as they were sitting close to each other in the smoking-room that night, "I mean to make an early start to-morrow."
"What;—to get to Surbiton's?"
"I've got something to do on the way. I want to look at a horse at Stamford."
"I'll be off with you."
"No;—don't do that. I'll go in my own cart. I'll make my man get hold of my groom and manage it somehow. I can leave my things and you can bring them. Only say to-morrow that I was obliged to go."
"I understand."
"Heard something, you know, and all that kind of thing. Make my apologies to the Duchess. In point of fact I must be in Stamford at ten."
"I'll manage it all," said Captain Battersby, who made a very shrewd guess at the cause which drew his friend to such an uncomfortable proceeding. After that Lord Rufford went to his room and gave a good deal of trouble that night to some of the servants in reference to the steps which would be necessary to take him out of harm's way before the Duchess would be up on the morrow.
Arabella when she heard of the man's departure on the following morning, which she luckily did from her own maid, was for some time overwhelmed by it. Of course the man was running away from her. There could be no doubt of it. She had watched him narrowly on the previous evening, and had seen that her aunt had tried in vain to speak to him. But she did not on that account give up the game. At any rate they had not found her out at Mistletoe. That was something. Of course it would have been infinitely better for her could he have been absolutely caught and nailed down before he left the house; but that was perhaps more than she had a right to expect. She could still pursue him; still write to him;—and at last, if necessary, force her father to do so. But she must trust now chiefly to her own correspondence.
"He told me, aunt, the last thing last night that he was going," she said.