“Most likely at the Tower of London,” was the sarcastic reply.
“Make no rejoinder, Sir John,” said Lady Webb. “You'll have the laugh against him by-and-by.”
The coach was then turned round, and guarded by the troop of yeomen, proceeding slowly towards Newcastle.
III.—LORD WIDDRINGTON.
Very different was the progress of the prince and his party from that made by the occupants of the coach. While the latter were crawling along the highway, the others were flying across the country, as if chasing the deer.
Over broad wide moors they speeded—across valley, and through wood—past ancient castles, and along the banks of rushing streams—allowing nothing to stop them—not even the Piets' wall, through a gap in which they dashed—till after traversing many a wild and waste such as only can be seen in Northumberland, they came in sight of the great German Ocean, and the rugged coast that bounds it.
Sixteen miles and upwards had been accomplished in a marvellously short space of time, but then all were well mounted. Throughout this long stretch, Anna, who we have said rode splendidly, kept by the side of Lord Derwentwater, and as he led the way, she shared any risk he might run.
A pretty sight it was to see them together, and drew forth the admiration of those who followed in their course. Somehow or other, they got ahead, and the Prince and Dorothy Forster, who were next behind, made no effort to come up with them. The rest of the party kept well together.