It was about seven o’clock when old Teager and Mr. Spink left Ipswich for Colchester, so that Margaret had some hours’ start of her pursuers. As they went on they heard at every toll-gate of a young man having gone through on just the description of horse given, so that it was a warm scent before them.
When they arrived at Chelmsford, through a misdirection of some person, they were told that the same horse was seen going on to Maldon, in the hundreds of Essex; and they had just given the post-boy orders to turn off the London road in pursuit, as Mr. Alston, of Diss, rode into the yard of the Black Boy as the pursuers were in the act of getting into the chaise.
“Pray, sir, may I be so bold as to ask if you came far along the London road?”
“I left town this morning, and am now on my journey to Manningtree. Why do you ask?”
“Because I am in pursuit of a thief. You did not chance to meet a man riding a strawberry roan carriage-horse?”
“Yes, I did; and remarked at the time that I thought it was the finest shaped horse I had ever seen. He was a crop, with high action and bold crest.”
“It is the very horse! Whereabouts might you meet him, sir?”
“I met him I should say about five miles on the other side of Romford, near to Ilford. It was about nine o’clock. I remarked to myself, what a fool the lad must be who was riding him, that he did not manage to fasten his overalls down at his ankles, as I could see his stockings up to his knees. Some gentleman I thought was sending him into livery stables.”
“We are greatly obliged to you, sir. On, boy, on!" and the post-chaise dashed out of the yard.
But for the accidental meeting of Mr. Alston it is very probable Margaret would have escaped; but the information thus given put the pursuers on the right scent, just in the right time.