eager to learn
the cause of what we beheld. We were not long kept in suspense, for
as soon as he could recover breath enough to speak, he turned to Mr.
Vernor, saying, in a voice hoarse with sorrow and indignation:--"If
you knows anything of this here wickedness, as I half suspects you do,
servant as I am, I tells you to your face, you're a willain, and I could
find in my heart to ~448~~ serve you as your precious nephew (as you
calls him) and his hired bullies have served me".

"How dare you use such language to me?" was the angry reply. "You have
been drinking, sirrah; leave the room instantly."

"Tell me, Peter," exclaimed I, unable longer to restrain myself, "what
has happened? Your mistress--Clara--is she safe?"

"That's more than I knows," was the reply; "if she is now, she won't
be soon, without we moves pretty sharp; for she's in precious unsafe
company. While we was a-looking after one thief, we've been robbed
by t'other: we was watching Muster Wilford, and that young scoundrel
Cumberland has cut in and bolted with Miss Clara!"

"Distraction!" exclaimed I, nearly maddened by the intelligence; "which
road have they taken? how long have they been gone?"

"Not ten minutes," was the reply; "for as soon as ever they had knocked
me down, they forced her into the carriage, and was off like lightning;
and I jumped up, and ran here as hard as legs would carry me."

"Then they may yet be overtaken," cried I, seizing my hat; "but are you
sure Wilford has nothing to do with it?"

"Quite certain," was the answer; "for I met him a-going a-shooting as I
cum in, and he stopped me to know what was the matter: and when I told
him, he seemed quite flustered like, and swore he'd make Cumberland
repent it."

"Mad, infatuated boy!" exclaimed Mr. Vernor; "bent on his own ruin."
And burying his face in his hands, he sank into a chair, apparently
insensible to everything that was passing.

"Now, Peter," I continued, "every moment is of importance; tell me which
road to take, and then get me the best horse in the stable, without a
moment's delay. I will bear you harmless."

"I've thought of all that, sir," rejoined Peter Barnett. "It's no use
your going alone; there's three of them besides the postboys. No! you
must take me with you; and they've knocked me about so, that I don't
think I could sit a horse, leastways not to go along as we must go, if
we means to catch 'em. No! I've ordered fresh horses to your carriage,
it's l