'In heaven's name, sir,' Soane cried desperately, 'take it! Take what you please, but let me take the road.'
'Ah, but that is what I doubt, sir, I cannot do,' the Justice answered. 'Mark you, there is motive, Sir George, and praesentia in loco,' he continued, swelling with his own learning. 'And you have a partem delicti on you. And, moreover, abduction is a special kind of case, seeing that if the participes criminis are free the femme sole, sometimes called the femina capta, is in greater danger. In fact, it is a continuing crime. An information being sworn therefore--'
'It has not been sworn yet!' Sir George retorted fiercely. 'And I warn you that any one who lays a hand on me shall rue it. God, man!' he continued, horror in his voice, 'cannot you understand that while you prate here they are carrying her off, and that time is everything?'
'Some persons have gone in pursuit,' the landlord answered with intent to soothe.
'Just so; some persons have gone in pursuit,' the Justice echoed with dull satisfaction. 'And you, if you went, could do no more than they can do. Besides, Sir George, the law must be obeyed. The sole point is'--he turned to Mr. Fishwick, who through all had stood by, his face distorted by grief and perplexity--'do you wish, sir, to swear the information?'
Mrs. Masterson had fainted at the first alarm and been carried to her room. Apart from her, it is probable that only Sir George and Mr. Fishwick really entered into the horror of the girl's position, realised the possible value of minutes, or felt genuine and poignant grief at what had occurred. On the decision of one of these two the freedom of the other now depended, and the conclusion seemed foregone. Ten minutes earlier Mr. Fishwick, carried away by the first sight of Sir George, and by the rage of an honest man who saw a helpless woman ruined, had been violent enough; Soane's possession of the fan--not then known to him--was calculated to corroborate his suspicions. The Justice in appealing to him felt sure of support; and was much astonished when Mr. Fishwick, in place of assenting, passed his hand across his brow, and stared at the speaker as if he had suddenly lost the power of speech.
In truth, the lawyer, harried by the expectant gaze of the room, and the Justice's impatience, was divided between a natural generosity, which was one of his oddities, and a suspicion born of his profession. He liked Sir George; his smaller manhood went out in admiration to the other's splendid personality. On the other hand, he had viewed Soane's approaches to his client with misgiving. He had scented a trap here and a bait there, and a dozen times, while dwelling on Dr. Addington's postponements and delays, he had accused the two of collusion and of some deep-laid chicanery. Between these feelings he had now to decide, and to decide in such a tumult of anxiety and dismay as almost deprived him of the power to think.
On the one hand, the evidence and inferences against Sir George pressed him strongly. On the other, he had seen enough of the futile haste of the ostlers and stable-helps, who had gone in pursuit, to hope little from them; while from Sir George, were he honest, everything was to be expected. In his final decision we may believe what he said afterwards, that he was determined by neither of these considerations, but by his old dislike of Lady Dunborough! For after a long silence, during which he seemed to be a dozen times on the point of speaking and as often disappointed his audience, he announced his determination in that sense. 'No, sir; I--I will not!' he stammered, 'or rather I will not--on a condition.'
'Condition!' the Justice growled, in disgust.
'Yes,' the lawyer answered staunchly; 'that Sir George, if he be going in pursuit of them, permit me to go with him. I--I can ride, or at least I can sit on a horse,' Mr. Fishwick continued bravely; 'and I am ready to go.'