'You have your settlement with the innkeeper. Don't, I beg, step into the chariot till you see me.'
'Anything?' said she.
'Only prudence.'
'Our posting horses will be harnessed soon, I hope. I burn to get away.'
Mrs. Pagnell paid the bill at the bar of the inn. Morsfield poured out for the injured countess or no-countess a dram of the brandy of passion, under the breath.
'Deny that you singled me once for your esteem. Hardest-hearted of the women of earth and dearest! deny that you gave me reason to hope—and now! I have ridden in your track all this way for the sight of you, as you know, and you kill me with frost. Yes, I rejoice that we were seen together. Look on me. I swear I perish for one look of kindness. You have been shamefully used, madam.'
'It seems to me I am being so,' said Aminta, cutting herself loose from the man of the close eyes that wavered as they shot the dart.
Her action was too decided for him to follow her up under the observation of the inn windows and a staring street.
Mrs. Pagnell came out. She went boldly to Morsfield and they conferred.
He was led by her to the chariot, where she pointed to a small padded
slab of a seat back to the horses. Turning to the bar, he said:—
My friend will look to my horse. Both want watering and a bucketful.
There!'—he threw silver—'I have to protect the ladies.'
Aminta was at the chariot door talking to her aunt inside.