Sir Peter stood waiting by the coach; and when he saw me with his pistol-case he said: "Well done, Carus! I had no mind to go hammering at a friend's door to beg a brace of pistols at such an hour."
I placed the case after he had entered the coach. Dr. Carmody made room for me, but I shook my head.
"I ride," I said. "Wait but an instant more."
"Why do you ride?" asked Sir Peter, surprised.
"You will understand later," I said gaily. "Be patient, gentlemen;" and I ran for the stables. Sleepy hostlers in smalls and bare feet tumbled out in the glare of the coach-house lanthorn at my shout.
"The roan," I said briefly. "Saddle for your lives!"
The stars were no paler in the heavens as I stood there on the grass, waiting, yet dawn must be very near now; and, indeed, the birds' chorus broke out as I set foot to stirrup, though still all was dark around me.
"Now, gentlemen," I said, spurring up to the carriage-door. I nodded to the coachman, and we were off at last, I composed and keenly alert, cantering at Sir Peter's coach-wheels, perfectly aware that I was riding for my liberty at last, or for a fall that meant the end of all for me.
There was a chaise standing full in the light of the tavern windows when we clattered up—a horse at the horse-block, too, and more horses tied to the hitching-ring at the side-door.
At the sound of our wheels Mr. Jessop appeared, hastening from the cherry grove, and we exchanged salutes very gravely, I asking pardon for the delay, he protesting at apology; saying that an encounter by starlight was, after all, irregular, and that his principal desired to wait for dawn if it did not inconvenience us too much.