Bloody Assizes! It was almost the first articulate sound that Lord Rosmore heard as he galloped into the town, a troop of men about him, and those who watched him pass knew that the judge must be on his way from Winchester. Rosmore laughed, but his thoughts were complex, schemes ran riot in his brain. Immediately upon entering his lodging he sent for Watson and Sayers, and was restless until they came.
He looked quickly towards the door as it opened.
"The lady is safe in Dorchester," said Watson.
"And the fugitive?"
"We followed him to Witley. We should have run him to earth, only your orders were not to go beyond Witley."
"This cursed fellow Crosby, what of him?"
"He was with this fugitive."
"And you let him go!" exclaimed Rosmore, stamping his foot passionately.
"We obeyed orders, sir, and it is well we did so. We, Sayers and I, were in Witley when the coach arrived. I had speech with Mistress Payne."
A grim smile overspread Sayers' face as he remembered the box on the ear his companion had received, but he saw that Lord Rosmore was in no mood to relish such a tale just now, and held his tongue.