"There is but one man who bestrides a saddle in such a fashion," exclaimed Margaret, as she carefully scanned the horseman. "But no! it cannot be so. I thought it was Sir——"
"Sir Thomas Stanley," exclaimed Dorothy, taking the words out of her sister's mouth.
"I thought it was he," she confessed; "and see," she added, raising her voice, "it is Sir Thomas; I thought it was," and she left the lovers as she had found them, and hastened down, greatly excited, to meet her own beloved, and not without some feelings of dismay at seeing him return alone.
Leaving the succeeding scene to be imagined rather than described, we will hark back to Sir George at Derby.
He accomplished his business more expeditiously than he had anticipated, and in a very brief space of time started out of the town, hoping with a hope soon to be dispelled that he might, perchance, overtake Sir Thomas.
Without a halt he arrived at Matlock at just about the same time as his companion reached Haddon, and reining up his steed at the village inn close by the churchyard, he alighted for a short rest and some refreshment ere he finished what remained of his journey.
He was well known here, and his peremptory commands were obeyed with the utmost alacrity.
His first enquiry was about Sir Thomas Stanley, and he learned to his satisfaction that he had passed safely through there a good hour or so before.
"In good sooth, your lordship is surely going no further to-night," exclaimed the host, as Sir George made the preliminary preparation for resuming his journey.
"Tut, man, why not? Of course I shall."