When our company was broken up into twos and threes, Sir Hubert and I rode on at a brisk pace, and did not draw rein until we reached the River Thames at Kingston, a very pretty little town.
The glory of the brilliant summer day was waning then; the sunset was obscured and clouded over by dark clouds; only its reflection lingered a little over the silvery waters of the Thames.
'We cannot reach London to-day,' said I, looking inquiringly at my companion.
I had been so happy riding along by his side that I had not realized that even the longest day comes to an end at last and night will follow. But he—he should have thought of that.
'No. Of course not. I have ascertained that Sir William Wood and Lady Caroline are staying with some friends at a house at Kingston. It is somewhere near the river. I thought that you would like to stay the night with Lady Caroline.'
'Oh, yes, I should,' I replied, cheerfully, for it was very pleasant to think of being with a gentlewoman again, after all the rough experiences I had been through.
'If only I could find the place!' exclaimed Sir Hubert. 'We shall attract observation if we go about on horseback seeking it. News will arrive here, if it has not already arrived, of what happened at Ditton, and we shall be arrested on suspicion.'
'What shall we do then?'
'Leave our horses at an inn, and take a walk along the riverside until we find the house where our friends are. I know it is a house by the river because I have been there.'
I made no objection to this, and we went to an inn, where they were pleased to take our horses, as also to serve us with light refreshment, of ale and bread and cheese for Sir Hubert and milk and cake for me, after hurriedly partaking of which we went out and walked down the street.