Before Charles could answer, an officer, fully accoutred, came forth from the inn with the evident intent of interrogating the travellers. But Jane anticipated his design, and holding out a piece of paper, exclaimed:
"I have a pass for myself and my man from Captain Stone, governor of Stafford. Here it is."
The officer took the paper, and glancing at it, said, in a respectful tone:
"You are the lady herein described, I presume?"
"I am Jane Lane, of Bentley House," she rejoined, haughtily. "This is my servant, Will Jones."
"Has he been long in your service?" pursued the officer, fixing a keen glance on Charles, who bore his scrutiny well.
"Not long," she replied. "He is a tenant of my brother's."
"Whither are you going?" he demanded. "I require a precise answer."
"I am going to Long Marston, the residence of my relative, Mr. Tombs, and shall pass the night there," she rejoined. "Long Marston is four miles beyond Stratford-on-Avon."
"I know the house," rejoined the officer. "Mr. Tombs is a notorious malignant, but your pass is sufficient. You may proceed on your journey."