eat man's carriage. The officer said some pin-pricks he had
gotten in a duel had stiffened him, and made the saddle ill of ease
with him, and the young lord said that he would stay behind as a
companion. They be up in the Colonel's chamber, drinking vastly. But
mind your life, sir, if you would halt them on the road. They be men
of great spirit. This inn seldom sees such drinkers."

And so Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale were resting at this inn while
the carriage of the Earl had gone on toward Bath? I had a mind to
dismount and join the two in their roystering, but my eyes turned
wistfully toward Bath.

As I rode away I began to wonder what had become of Jem Bottles and
Paddy. Here was a fine pair to be abroad in the land. Here were two
jewels to be rampaging across the country. Separately, they were
villains enough, but together they would overturn England and get
themselves hung for it on twin gibbets. I tried to imagine the
particular roguery to which they would first give their attention.

But then all thought of the rascals faded from me as my mind received
a vision of Lady Mary's fair face, her figure, her foot. It would not
be me to be thinking of two such thieves when I could be dreaming of
Lady Mary with her soft voice and the clear depth of her eyes. My
horse seemed to have a sympathy with my feeling and he leaped bravely
along the road. The Celtic melancholy of the first part of the journey
had blown away like a sea-mist. I sped on gallantly toward Bath and
Lady Mary.

But almost at the end of the day, when I was within a few miles of
Bath, my horse suddenly pitched forward onto his knees and nose. There
was a flying spray of muddy water. I was flung out of the saddle, but
I fell without any serious hurt whatever. We had been ambushed by some
kind of deep-sided puddle. My poor horse scrambled out and stood with
lowered head, heaving and trembling. His soft nose had been cut
between his teeth and the far edge of the puddle. I led him forward,
watching his legs. He was lamed. I looked in wrath and despair back at
the puddle, which was as plain as a golden guinea on a platter. I do
not see how I could have blundered into it, for the daylight was still
clear and strong. I had been gazing like a fool in the direction of
Bath. And my Celtic melancholy swept down upon me again, and even my
father's bier appeared before me with the pale candle-flames swaying
in the gusty room, and now indeed my ears heard the lou