"No—no—he wouldn't do that, Glossop," remarked the magistrate.
"Well, we rode on till we got to a lane," pursued the constable, "and two of our party went down it, while the rest kept to the high road. About a mile further we encountered a waggon, and questioned the driver, but no one had passed him; so we turned back, and were soon afterwards joined by our mates, who had been equally unsuccessful. Feeling now quite nonplussed, we deemed it best to return to the hall—and here we are, ready to attend to your honour's orders."
"'Twould be useless to attempt further pursuit to-night, Glossop," rejoined the magistrate. "Captain Legh has got off by a very clever stratagem, and will take good care you don't come near him. By this time, he's far enough off, you may depend upon it."
"Exactly my opinion, sir," observed Glossop. "We've lost him for the present, that's quite certain."
"Well, we'll consider what is best to be done in the morning," said Mr. Fowden. "Meantime you can take up your quarters here for the night. Stable your horses, and then go to bed."
"Not without supper, your honour," pleaded Glossop. "We're desperately hungry."
"Why you're never satisfied," cried the magistrate. "But perhaps Mr. Markland will find something for you."
Leaving the constables to shift for themselves, which he knew they were very well able to do, Mr. Fowden then returned to the dining-room, and finished the bottle of claret with the priest. Though his plans had been frustrated, and he had lost both his horse and his expected prisoner, he could not help laughing very heartily at the occurrence of the evening.
Later on, he was conducted to a comfortable bed-chamber by the butler.