'It is the hand of one who can write well if she choose—and do you know your sister's handwriting?'
'Yes, I know she takes a long time to write, but I expect she was hurried and distressed, and these are tears which have blotted the paper. What can it be? Oh, what can the trouble be? Good-bye, and thank you. I must go, as it is full three miles to the old thorn tree.'
'I know it,' Chatterton said, 'I know it. It is where a by-road turns off towards Bath. I wish you good luck, Miss Palmer.'
Then Chatterton turned, and went back with his swift pace the way he came.
He met, as he expected, Jack Henderson, who had been to Dowry Square and heard that Miss Palmer had been called away on some business, but where the footboy did not know.
When Chatterton met Jack, he was walking with a downcast air, and Chatterton had slapped him on the back before he was aware of his presence.
'Whither away, Master Jacques the melancholy?'
'I am in no mood for jests. Tom, let me go.'
'Yes, but let me tell you something first. A certain fair damsel you know, has crossed the ferry, and is wandering unprotected up the road to Dundry. Be a good knight and follow her, for it strikes me she may need your presence.'
'What do you mean?' Jack said.