e, then, was a situation most inopportune; the coach of two
ladies, unattended, stopped by two strangers, who certainly could not
claim introduction by either friend or reputation.
"I did but wish to ask some advice of the roads hereabout," said the
elder brother, turning his eyes full upon those of the Lady Catharine.
"As you see, we are in ill plight to get forward to the city. If you
will be so good as to tell me which way to take, I shall remember it
most gratefully. Once in the city, we should do better, for the rascals
have not taken certain papers, letters which I bear to gentlemen in the
city--Sir Arthur Pembroke I may name as one--a friend of my father's,
who hath had some dealings with him in the handling of moneys. I have
also word for others, and make sure that, once we have got into town, we
shall soon mend our fortune."
Lady Catharine looked at Mary Connynge and the latter in turn gazed at
her. "There could be no harm," said each to the other with her eyes.
"Surely it is our duty to take them in with us; at least the one who is
wounded."
Will Law had said nothing, though he had come forward to the road, and,
bowing, stood uncovered. Now he leaned against the flank of one of the
horses, in a tremor of vertigo which seized him as he stood. It was
perhaps the paleness of his face that gave determination to the issue.
"William," called the Lady Catharine Knollys, "open the door for Mr. Law
of Lauriston!"
The footman sprang to the ground and held open the door. Therefore, into
the coach stepped John Law and his brother, late of Edinboro', sometime
robbed and afoot, but now to come into London in circumstances which
surely might have been far worse.
John Law entered the coach with the dignity and grace of a gentleman
born. He bowed gravely as he took his seat beside his brother, facing
the ladies. Will Law sank back into the corner, not averse to rest. The
eyes of the two young women did not linger more upon the wounded man
than upon his brother. He, in turn, looked straight into their eyes,
courteously, respectfully, gravely, yet fearlessly and calmly, as
though he knew what power and possibilities were his. Enigma and
autocrat alike, Beau Law of Edinboro', one of the handsomest and
properest men ever bred on any soil, was surely a picture of vigorous
young manhood, as he rode toward Sadler's Wells, with two of the
beauties of the hour, and in a coach and four which might have been his
own.
Now
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