Mr. Manners looked at Timothy Chance inquiringly.
"Yes, sir," said Timothy, "if you will allow me, I will accompany you."
"I thank you," said Mr. Manners, and again the two men shook hands.
Then Mr. Manners desired Dr. Perriera to go to Kingsley, and tell him that he might not return till morning, and that it would be best not to wait up for him. After which, he and Timothy set out on their errand.
"I will drive you," said Timothy; "I have a fast-trotting mare that will skim over the ground."
The fast-trotting mare being harnessed, they started off at the rate of ten miles an hour.
[CHAPTER XLVII.]
It was closing time at the Three Tuns, and some tipplers were being bundled out, much against their will, when Timothy Chance, entering with Mr. Manners, called the landlord aside, and had a hurried conference with him. The result was satisfactory.
"They are having supper in a private room," said Timothy to Mr. Manners, "and the landlord will take us up, unannounced." They ascended the stairs, and the landlord, without knocking, throwing open the door, Timothy and Mr. Manners entered the room.
Mark Inglefield was sitting at the supper-table; by his side sat Mary Parkinson; opposite to them sat Blooming Bess. Mark Inglefield, looking up, with angry words on his lips at the intrusion, was about to utter them, when, seeing who his visitors were, he fell back as if suddenly paralyzed. His face was of a deadly pallor, his limbs trembled, he was speechless. Mr. Manners gave him time to recover himself, but the detected villain did not speak. He felt that retribution had overtaken him.