"I give your lordship back your wish," replied Sir Roger, "and will wait on you to-morrow at breakfast with all my tidings."
Thus saying, they parted, Sir Roger proceeding to hasten the arrival of the horse, and the peer walking with a haughty step towards the saloon, where he was waited by Colonel Manners.
[CHAPTER XVI.]
We must now turn to follow the course of Colonel Manners, from the time we last left him at Morley House to the moment of his visit to Lord Dewry, comprising in all a space of about eight hours. While waiting for his horse he had, as we have already seen, examined quickly, but not the less accurately, into the story of the peasant who had heard shots fired in the neighbouring wood during the night before; and he had thus satisfied himself that there was very little probability of there being any connection whatever between those shots and the absence of his friend, except such as the marvel-loving mood of the old butler and the natural fears of De Vaux's relations had supplied from the stores of imagination. The shots had been fired, it seemed, in a direction different from that in which there were many reasons for believing that De Vaux had gone; and the man himself acknowledged, not only that he had originally supposed the sounds to be occasioned by poachers, but that he had heard the report of one gun on the preceding night.
Convinced, from what he himself suspected, as well as from what Marian had said, that De Vaux had gone to visit the gipsies on the hill, Colonel Manners at once determined to turn his horse's head thither, before he made any examination in the wood where the shots had been heard; and in this resolution he was strongly confirmed by a short conversation with the head-gardener, whom he met as he was just passing the gates.
As soon as Manners saw him he checked his horse, and demanded, "Pray, in coming through the garden this morning, did you see any marks of steps in the direction of the small door leading towards Morley Down?"
"No, sir," replied the man; "but I found the key in the outside of the door this morning, so that anybody might have got into the garden that liked; but, however, I cannot see that any of the fruit is gone. Did you hear of any one having got in last night, sir?"
"No, no," answered Manners: "I did not mean to imply that," and spurring on his horse, he rode forward more than ever determined to address his first inquiries to the gipsies. Now Colonel Manners was not a man to pause and wonder what could be the connection between the Honourable Edward de Vaux and the king of shreds and patches from whom he had received the letter, till the time was past for rendering effectual service. Nevertheless, as he rode on, he did wonder much at that connection, revolving in his mind every thing probable and improbable which could account for circumstances with regard to which the reader wants no explanations; but keeping his horse's chest all the time steadily against the hill, and his spurs to its flanks, to prevent its resisting a method of progression to which he never subjected it except on occasions of necessity. The beast panted, but still Manners, feeling that perhaps too much time had been lost already, kept it up to the same pace, saying, internally, "You would have gone unflinching at the heels of the hounds, my good gray, and the matter is more important now."
The early rays of the sun had licked up the hoar-frost of a clear autumnal morning, but had left the roads, in consequence, and especially the road up which Manners's course lay, heavy and difficult. The sunshine, too, of the autumn--as we often see with the sunshine of life--had been too early bright to continue unclouded to the close of the day; and now, even as he rode on, a thin brownish film of dull vapour began to creep up from the verge of the horizon, promising rain ere long. Manners spurred on all the faster, not that, as far as his own person was concerned, he cared whether it rained or not, but he had served long enough with nations who follow their enemies by the lightest traces in the dew or in the sand to know that a heavy rain was often destruction itself to the hopes of a pursuing party.
At length he reached the level at the top of the ascent; and, pointing with his hand to the tumulus, he said, turning to those who followed him, "You, William, ride up as far as you can upon the mound, and keep a keen eye upon the whole plain. If you see any one skulking about or watching, give instant notice, and gallop up if you hear me call. You come with me," he added, to his own man; and, taking the shortest cut towards the sandpit, he spurred on towards the spot where he had last seen the gipsies. The bushes, however, were now directly between him and the bank that had sheltered their encampment, so that he could see nothing till he was nearly upon the pit.