"It was fortunate it was as it happened afterwards, that you were able to reach the wood, and get out of it unperceived by the mob."
"I should have been in an unfortunate condition had I been in their hands long. A man made of iron would not be able to resist the brutality of those people."
As they were speaking, a gig, with two men, drove up, followed by one on horseback. They stopped at the garden-gate, and then tarried to consult with each other, as they looked at the house.
"What can they want, I wonder?" inquired Henry; "I never saw them before."
"Nor I," said Charles Holland.
"Do you not know them at all?" inquired Varney.
"No," replied Flora; "I never saw them, neither can I imagine what is their object in coming here."
"Did you ever see them before?" inquired Henry of his mother, who held up her hand to look more carefully at the strangers; then, shaking her head, she declared she had never seen such persons as those.
"I dare say not," said Charles Holland. "They certainly are not gentlemen; but here they come; there is some mistake, I daresay--they don't want to come here."
As they spoke, the two strangers got down; after picking up a topcoat they had let fall, they turned round, and deliberately put it into the chaise again; they walked up the path to the door, at which they knocked.
The door was opened by the old woman, when the two men entered.
"Does Francis Beauchamp live here?"
"Eh?" said the old woman, who was a little deaf, and she put her hand behind her ear to catch the sounds more distinctly--"eh?--who did you say?"
Sir Francis Varney started as the sounds came upon his ear, but he sat still an attentive listener.
"Are there any strangers in the house?" inquired the other officer, impatiently. "Who is here?"
"Strangers!" said the old woman; "you are the only strangers that I have seen here."
"Come," said the officer to his companion, "come this way; there are people in this parlour. Our business must be an apology for any rudeness we may commit."
As he spoke he stepped by the old woman, and laying his hand upon the handle of the door, entered the apartment, at the same time looking carefully around the room as if he expected some one.
"Ladies," said the stranger, with an off-hand politeness that had something repulsive in it, though it was meant to convey a notion that civility was intended; "ladies, I beg pardon for intruding, but I am looking for a gentleman."
"You shall hear from me again soon," said Sir Francis, in an almost imperceptible whisper.
"What is the object of this intrusion?" demanded Henry Bannerworth, rising and confronting the stranger. "This is a strange introduction."
"Yes, but not an unusual one," said the stranger, "in these cases--being unavoidable, at the least."
"Sir," said Charles Holland, "if you cannot explain quickly your business here, we will proceed to take those measures which will at least rid ourselves of your company."
"Softly, sir. I mean no offence--not the least; but I tell you I do not come for any purpose that is at all consonant to my wishes. I am a Bow-street officer in the execution of my duty--excuse me, therefore."
"Whom do you want?"
"Francis Beauchamp; and, from the peculiarity of the appearance of this individual here, I think I may safely request the pleasure of his company."
Varney now rose, and the officer made a rush at him, when he saw him do so, saying,--
"Surrender in the king's name."
Varney, however, paid no attention to that, but rushed past, throwing his chair down to impede the officer, who could not stay himself, but fell over it, while Varney made a rush towards the window, which he cleared at one bound, and crossing the road, was lost to sight in a few seconds, in the trees and hedges on the other side.
"Accidents will happen," said the officer, as he rose to his feet; "I did not think the fellow would have taken the window in that manner; but we have him in view, and that will be enough."
"In heaven's name," said Henry, "explain all about this; we cannot understand one word of it--I am at a loss to understand one word of it."
"We will return and do so presently," said the officer as he dashed out of the house after the fugitive at a rapid and reckless speed, followed by his companion.
The man who had been left with the chaise, however, was the first in the chase; seeing an escape from the window, he immediately guessed that he was the man wanted, and, but for an accident, he would have met Varney at the gate, for, as he was getting out in a hurry, his foot became entangled with the reins, and he fell to the ground, and Varney at the same moment stepped over him.