“Did you bring a message for Mr Charles Vining?”
“Yes, sir,” shouted the man in answer; and the next moment they were out of hearing.
“Good heavens, though,” exclaimed Sir Philip anxiously, “look at him!” And at a turn of the road Charley could be seen in the distance leaning out of the carriage window, fiercely gesticulating to the postillions, who, apparently in obedience to his orders, had broken into a smart gallop, and the chariot was being borne through the lodge-gate at a rapid rate.
It was a two-mile ride to Lexville church, and as Sir Philip’s carriage passed the lodge-gate in turn, he caught one more glimpse of the chariot ascending a hill in front, not at a moderate rate, but at a furious gallop, the vehicle swaying from side to side, till it crowned the hill and disappeared.
“I suppose it is excusable,” said Sir Philip, turning pale with apprehension; “but what a pity that he should have gone out!”
Directly after, though, the old gentleman smilingly observed to his friends that they would only be in at the death; and then speaking to the coachman, that functionary applied his whip, and the horses went along at a brisk canter.
“More behind even than I thought for,” said Sir Philip anxiously, as the carriage drew up to the churchyard gates, amidst a burst of cheering from the crowd, and then, smiling and raising his hat, Sir Philip walked up to the church, as there was a loud cry of “Here they are!” passed along the nave, entered the chancel, and taking Laura’s hand in his, kissed it with a mingling of love and respect.
“But surely you have not got it over? Where is Charley?” exclaimed the old man.
It was Nelly who gave the sharp cry as he made the inquiry, while Laura stood the image of despair as a rumour ran through the church.
“Was he—was he in the chariot?” whispered Mr Bray, catching his old friend by the arm.