“We could not have passed them, upset in one of the ditches, could we?” hinted Mr Bray.
“Impossible!” cried Sir Philip. “But where could they have turned off?”
“Like to take the horses out and wait, sir? They may come soon,” said the landlord.
“No, no, my man,” hastily cried Sir Philip. “There is nowhere for a carriage to turn off from the high-road during these last two miles, is there?”
“Whoy yes, sur,” said one of the wagoners, “there’s Bogle’s-lane as goes to Squire Lethbridge’s fa-arm; and the low lane down by the beck.”
“Ay, lad, and theer’s ta by-ro-ad as goes to Bellby and La-a-anton.”
“Laneton—Laneton?” Sir Philip exclaimed. “Here, my lads,” he cried, and he threw two or three coins amongst the men. “To be sure! Turn back quick, William; they may have gone that way.”
The coachman turned his panting horses, and they went back at a smart trot towards the by-lane mentioned, a good mile and a half back; while a flood of thought passed the while through Sir Philip’s troubled brain.
“Laneton—Laneton! What could be the meaning of that? But absurd; the horses had taken fright and been turned up there. Of course, the lane would be very heavy at this time of the year, and it was done to tire out the horses. But then Mrs Brandon lived at Laneton. It was there that that interview took place with Miss Bedford. But absurd; Miss Bedford had left there for long enough, and no doubt they would find at the entrance of the lane that the carriage had turned down there, and now exhibited the back tracks. They had overshot the mark, and it was a great pity. It was unfortunate altogether, but one thing was evident: the wedding could not take place that day.”
So mused Sir Philip, till, as they neared the narrow entrance that they had barely noticed, another troublous thought flashed upon his mind.