'Good!' ejaculated the deputy-sheriff, quietly pocketing his writ, and placing his hat on his head. 'I'm your man now; which way do you want to go?'
Grosket named the direction; and in a few moments they were on their way to Jacob Rhoneland's.
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.
For a long time Enoch Grosket and the sheriff's deputy walked on without exchanging a word; but as they proceeded, Grosket's brow began to darken, his lips were firmly set together, and his pace quickened until his companion could scarcely keep up with him.
'Come on, Sir,' said Enoch, abruptly turning to him. 'Michael Rust is the devil, but he has driven to desperation one whom he has drilled in all his ways; and who has had a hand in all his dark doings for years. Let him look to himself. He may chain the body, but my tongue shall speak. Ah! Michael Rust! Michael Rust! you were never nearer destruction than when you thought me in your power!'
His speed soon increased to such a degree, that although Mr. Chicken had apparently been constituted with an especial eye to rapid locomotion, yet that gentleman's lower members were kept at their full stretch. Once or twice the deputy suggested to his companion that the day was warm for the season, and that he had been more active twenty years ago; to both of which remarks Grosket assented, without in the least diminishing his speed; nor did he pause to draw breath until they had reached Rhoneland's house.
'This is the place,' said Grosket. 'If he's wise, he'll not refuse me.'
He knocked at the door, which was opened by Kate. She knew neither of them; and in reply to his question, informed him that her father was at home. Grosket paused for a moment as his eye rested on her bright face; and something like a tear rose in it, as he thought of his own lost child; but he checked the feeling which induced it, and turning, said:
'So you're his daughter?'