In her heart she had little doubt of the truth of the accusation Rufus had flung out on the day of the trial—that Tim had been bribed to swear a falsehood. But she wanted direct evidence. She was anxious to be just to Gervase, whatever happened.
On the day before leaving home she resolved on more direct measures. Getting her horse saddled, she rode straight away to the "Three Anchors" and knocked loudly on the front door with the handle of her riding-crop.
“HAD MADELINE FIRED A REVOLVER HE COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE STARTLED.”
A young man with a thick crop of reddish-brown hair, and a blue apron tied round his waist, appeared at length from the recesses of the tavern.
"Can I have a drink of barley-water for my horse?" she inquired.
"Yes, miss; I'll fetch it in a minute."
She backed her horse a few paces and waited. No one appeared to be about. The inn stood at the junction of five roads, commonly known as Five Lane Ends, and there was not another house within half a mile.
In a few minutes the shock-headed young man appeared with a pail, which he held under the horse's nose.