“Have you given thought to your purpose?” he asked.
“I have thought of nothing else; it has never been absent from my mind.”
“How do you hope to accomplish possession?”
“I expect to enact the scriptural part of the ‘thief in the night,’ somewhere between Oxford and Carlisle.”
He had seated himself at the table, leaving her still standing before him. At these words the frown came again to his brow, and anger to his eyes.
“I do not like your iteration; it is not to the purpose, and is but womanish.”
“I am a woman, and must bear the disadvantages of being so. As you have said, that matters little so that the good work be done.”
“Between Oxford and Carlisle is vague. I cannot trust to a scheme so lacking in definiteness. I shall have Armstrong laid by the heels long before he reaches Carlisle. If the wench’s hand fail, then comes the rough paw of the trooper immediately after. Your chance will be in Banbury, where you must contrive to have him stop for the night.”
“If we leave Oxford early in the morning he will not be content to stop in Banbury, which is less than twenty-five miles away, and even on the coming hither we have covered more than double that distance each day. He will be urgent on his return.”
“True, but there lies your task in management; you may fall ill, and I question if he will leave you. I can order your pass taken from you at Banbury, and a night’s delay caused. You will go to the inn called ‘The Banbury Arms,’ at the sign of the blazoned sun. The inn-keeper will ask for your pass, and when he sees it he will place you in adjoining rooms which are fitted for your purpose. There is a communicating door, bolted on your side, invisible, except by close scrutiny, on the other. What follows will depend on your skill and quietness. Has the man any suspicion of your intention toward him?”