When they were informed of the arrangements made for their flight, the countess and Dorothy seemed dissatisfied rather than pleased, but the earl was quite resolved upon their departure.
“There is no telling what the morrow may bring forth,” he said. “And if fortune should prove adverse, I should bitterly reproach myself for allowing you to remain. Go you must.”
All arrangements having been made, Dorothy retired, and the earl and countess were left alone together.
For some minutes they both remained silent. The earl then spoke:
“I hope we may meet again at Dilston as in former days,” he said. “But I have great misgivings. Tomorrow will decide. We shall then either be victorious, or utterly defeated, and prisoners, for we are shut up in this town. In the latter event I well know what my fate will be, and I confess that I cannot shake off a dread presentiment that it will happen.”
“Do not thus be despondent, my dear lord,” said the countess. “To me everything seems to look well.”
“Not so,” he replied. “We have one great danger. Should General Carpenter arrive before we have beaten Wills, we are lost. Had a victory been gained to-day—as it might and would have been had we not been thwarted by Forster—all would have been well. But now we must trust to chance. I will not say that Forster has betrayed us, but he has been excessively indiscreet in confiding his secrets to Mrs. Scarisbrick.”
“Then you think Mrs. Scarisbrick has given secret intelligence to the enemy?”
“I am almost sure of it,” replied the earl. “But let us not trouble our parting with gloomy anticipations.”
They then endeavoured to talk cheerfully, but the effort was in vain, and it was almost a relief to both of them when Father Norham entered.