I
am. Should I have placed the knowledge of my retreat in your possession,
you know that, as a man of honor, you could not tell him a falsehood.
Goodby," she added, "we may meet in better times, but I much fear that
our destinies will be separated forever--Come, Alley."

Her voice softened as she uttered the last words, and the stranger felt
the influence of her ascendency over him too strongly to hesitate in
manifesting this proof of his obedience to her wishes.

CHAPTER XIV. Crackenfudge put upon a Wrong Scent

--Miss Gourlay takes Refuge with an Old Friend.

Little did Lucy dream that the fact of their discovery as
fellow-travellers would so soon reach her father's ears, and that the
provision against that event, and the inferences which calumny might
draw from it, as suggested by her prudence and good sense, should render
her advice to the stranger so absolutely necessary.

Whilst the brief dialogue which we have recited at the close of the last
chapter took place, another, which as a faithful historian we are bound
to detail, was proceeding between the redoubtable Crackenfudge and our
facetious friend, Dandy Dulcimer. Crackenfudge in following the stranger
to the metropolis by the 'Flash of Lightning', in order to watch his
movements, was utterly ignorant that Lucy had been that gentleman's
fellow-traveller in the Fly. A strong opposition, as we have already
said, existed between the two coaches, and so equal was their speed,
that in consequence of the mutual delay caused by changing horses, they
frequently passed each other on the road, the driver, guard, and outside
passengers of both coaches uniformly grimacing at each other amidst a
storm of groans, cheers, and banter on both sides. So equal, however,
were their relative powers of progress, that no effort on either side
was found sufficient to enable any one of them to claim a victory.
On the contrary, their contests generally ended in a dead heat, or
something very nearly approaching it. On the night in question the 'Fly'
had a slight advantage, and but a slight one. Before the coachman had
time to descend from his ample seat, the 'Flash of Lightning' came
dashing in at a most reckless speed--the unfortunate horses snorting and
panting--steaming with smoke, which rose from them in white wreaths, and
streaming in such a manner with perspiration that it was painful to look
upon them.

Crackenfudge was one of the first out of the 'Flash of Lightnin