"We've done it in double–quick time, sir," the postillion said, complacently pointing to the steaming sides of his horses. "Master'll gie it to me for driving the beasts like this."
Edward Arundel looked at the panting animals. They had brought him quickly, then, though the way had seemed so long.
"You shall have a five–pound note, my lad," he said, "if you get me up to yonder house in five minutes."
He had his hand upon the door of the carriage, and was leaning against it for support, while he tried to recover enough strength with which to clamber into the vehicle, when his eye was caught by some white object flapping in the rain against the stone pillar of the gate, and made dimly visible in a flickering patch of light from the lodge–keeper's lantern.
"What's that?" he cried, pointing to this white spot upon the moss–grown stone.
The old man slowly raised his eyes to the spot towards which the soldier's finger pointed.
"That?" he mumbled. "Ay, to be sure, to be sure. Poor young lady! That's the printed bill as they stook oop. It's the printed bill, to be sure, to be sure. I'd a'most forgot it. It ain't been much good, anyhow; and I'd a'most forgot it."
"The printed bill! the young lady!" gasped Edward Arundel, in a hoarse, choking voice.
He snatched the lantern from the lodge–keeper's hand with a force that sent the old man reeling and tottering several paces backward; and, rushing to the stone pillar, held the light up above his head, on a level with the white placard which had attracted his notice. It was damp and dilapidated at the edges; but that which was printed upon it was as visible to the soldier as though each commonplace character had been a fiery sign inscribed upon a blazing scroll.
This was the announcement which Edward Arundel read upon the gate–post of Marchmont Towers:––