om the toils which every moment
seemed to multiply about him. The time for action was, indeed, but
short; if he was ever (for it already seemed "ever") to be free again,
the means must be taken to deliver him at once. The assizes would be
held at Cross Key--he had heard the Gethin gossips talk of them, little
thinking that they would have any interest for him--in three weeks.
Until then, at all events, he must be a prisoner; beyond that time he
would not, dared not, look.

Within ten minutes Richard Yorke stood committed to Cross Key Jail.

He followed his friend's counsel in all respects. But the messenger
dispatched for Mr. Weasel returned with the news that that gentleman was
out of town; he was very busy at that season--there were other folks in
difficulties besides our hero, urgent for his consolation and advice as
to their course of conduct before my Lord the Judge. Mr. Dodge, however,
assured Richard, upon taking leave, that he would dispatch the attorney
after him that very night.

The road to Cross Key was, for many miles, the same which he had lately
traveled in the reverse direction; yet how different it looked! He had
been in far from good spirits on that occasion, but how infinitely more
miserable was he now! The hills, the rocks, the streams were far more
beautiful than he had ever thought them, but they mocked him with their
beauty. He longed to get out of the vehicle, and feel the springy turf,
the yielding heather, beneath his feet; to lave his hands in the
sparkling brook, to lie on the moss-grown rock, and bask in the blessed
sun. Perhaps he should never see them any more--these simple everyday
beauties, of which he had scarcely taken any account when they were
freely offered for his enjoyment. He looked back on even the day before,
wherein he had certainly been wretched enough, with yearning regret. He
had at least been a free man, and when should he be free again? Ah,
when! He was, as it were, in a prison on wheels, guarded by two jailers.
Escape would have been hopeless, even had it been judicious to make the
attempt. His only consolation was, that Solomon Coe was no longer with
him to jeer at his dejected looks. He had started for Gethin with the
news, doubtless as welcome to Trevethick as to himself, of the
prisoner's committal. What would Harry say when she came to hear of it?
What would she not suffer? Richard cast himself back in his seat, and
groaned aloud. The man at his side exchanged a g