Sir George Barkley."
"I have searched the house high and low," said the voice of another
stout gentleman, who now pushed his way into the room; "and I can
find nothing but a sick cat up in the garret."
"Ay, ay, Brother Bulrush, ay, ay!" replied the clergyman; "ay, ay, it
is all explained. It is all that Messenger's fault, and he has now
run away again. This worshipful young gentleman is secretary to the
Earl of Byerdale, the great minister; and I'm sure we are both very
sorry to have given him any trouble."
"You have given me no trouble at all, gentlemen," replied Wilton,
"and I have only to beg that if the Messenger return after I am gone,
you will send him up to town to-morrow morning in the custody of a
constable. I shall not fail to report to Lord Byerdale your activity
and zeal upon the present occasion; which, indeed, may be of some
service, as I am sorry to say, that serious remonstrances have been
made regarding this part of the country, it being intimated, that
smuggling, coining, and even treasonable meetings and assemblies, are
more common here than in any other part of Kent."
"Indeed, sir," replied one of the justices, somewhat alarmed,
"indeed, it is not our fault. They are an unruly set, they are a most
unruly set. We do the best we may, but cannot manage them.--But, sir,
the young lady looks fatigued and tired. Had she not better come up
to the parsonage, and rest there this night. She shall have a good
warm bed, and Mrs. Jeffreys, who is a motherly sort of woman, will be
quite delighted to take care of her ladyship."
"Or Lady Bulrush either, I am sure," said the other magistrate. "The
manor-house is but half a mile."
Wilton turned to Laura, to inquire what she thought fit to do; but
the young lady, not very much prepossessed in favour either of the
motherly sort of clergyman's wife, or the more elevated Lady Bulrush,
by the appearance and manners of their marital representatives,
leaned both her hands upon Wilton's arm, feeling implicit confidence
in him alone, and security with him only; and, raising her eyes
imploringly to his face, she said in a low voice, "Indeed, indeed,
Wilton, I would rather not--I would rather go home to Beaufort House
at once, to relieve my poor father's anxiety."
"In truth," he replied, in the same tone, "I cannot but think it
would be better for you to obtain a night's rest, if you can, rather
than to take a long journey after such terrible agitation as you have
undergone."
"Do not ask me--nay, do not ask