hat the devil does this mean? Have you tricked me?"

"I'll swear I haven't. If anybody's been playing tricks it's that crazy
cat Sally," returned Rofflash in a low voice. "Your bird can't have
flown very far. Her man was here, you see. Let's follow him. We're bound
to light upon them together."

The suggestion was as good as any other. Dorrimore refreshed himself
with a string of the latest oaths in fashion and set off with the
scheming captain, leaving Sally somewhat provoked. She had had many a
guinea from Dorrimore, and was in the mood to get more now that her
spite against Lavinia was gratified.

The two men raced off at the double, Dorrimore's rage increasing the
further he went. It looked as if his plan to kidnap Lavinia had broken
down. The idea had been to waylay her before she joined Vane. As the
thing was turning out, she promised, when found, to be at so great a
distance from the coach that to convey her there would be difficult.

Before long they hove in sight of Lancelot Vane. He too was hurrying
and looking right and left as he went. And he was alone.

"The girl's fooled him," muttered Dorrimore between his set teeth. "That
wouldn't matter a tinker's curse, but she's fooled us as well. Rofflash,
I've a mind to pick a quarrel with the fellow and pink him."

"And get yourself landed in Newgate. Don't you know, sir, it's against
the law to draw a sword in the Park? If you're going to be so mad, I'll
say good evening. I'll have nought to do with such folly. We'll find
some other way to lay the spark by the heels and have the girl as well.
My advice is not to show yourself or you'll put him on his guard."

Dorrimore, whose head was not particularly strong, had had a couple of
bottles with his dinner to give him spirit for the enterprise, and he
allowed himself to be persuaded. He and Rofflash betook themselves to
the coach which landed them at a tavern in St. James's Street, where
Dorrimore drank and drank until he fell under the table and was carried
out by a couple of waiters, put in a hackney coach and conveyed to his
chambers in the Temple.

Rofflash left his patron at the tavern long before this period arrived.
He was on the search for Mistress Salisbury and knowing her haunts
pretty well, he ran her to earth at a house of questionable repute in
the neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Sally had had more to drink than the
bottle of Mountain port her soul had craved for and was inclined to be
boisterous,