By the time this was told a dozen were round them, listening open-mouthed; and cheered by the lights and company Mr. Fishwick grew brave again.  But Sir George allowed no respite:  in five minutes they were clear of the houses and riding hard for Chippenham, the next stage on the Bristol road; Sir George’s horse cantering free, the lawyer’s groaning as it bumped across Studley bridge and its rider caught the pale gleam of the water below.  On through the village they swept, past Brumhill Lane-end, thence over the crest where the road branches south to Devizes, and down the last slope.  The moon rose as they passed the fourth milestone out of Calne; another five minutes and they drew up, the horses panting and hanging their heads, in the main street of Chippenham.

A coach—­one of the night coaches out of Bristol—­was standing before the inn, the horses smoking, the lamps flaring cheerfully, a crowd round it; the driver had just unbuckled his reins and flung them either way.  Sir George pushed his horse up to the splinter-bar and hailed him, asking whether he had met a closed chaise and four travelling Bristol way at speed.

‘A closed chaise and four?’ the man answered, looking down at the party; and then recognising Sir George, ‘I beg your honour’s pardon,’ he said.  ‘Here, Jeremy,’ to the guard—­while the stable-man and helpers paused to listen or stared at the heaving flanks of the riders’ horses—­’did we meet a closed chaise and four to-night?’

‘We met a chaise and four at Cold Aston,’ the guard answered, ruminating.  ’But ’twas Squire Norris’s of Sheldon, and there was no one but the Squire in it.  And a chaise and four at Marshfield, but that was a burying party from Batheaston, going home very merry.  No other, closed or open, that I can mind, sir, this side of Dungeon Cross, and that is but two miles out of Bristol.’

‘They are an hour and a half in front of us!’ Sir George cried eagerly.  ‘Will a guinea improve your memory?’

Ay, sir, but ‘twon’t make it,’ the coachman answered, grinning.  ’Jeremy is right.  I mind no others.  What will your honour want with them?’

‘They have carried off a young lady!’ Mr. Fishwick cried shrilly.  ’Sir George’s kinswoman!’

‘To be sure?’ ejaculated the driver, amid a murmur of astonishment; and the crowd which had grown since their arrival pressed nearer to listen.  ‘Where from, sir, if I may make so bold?’

‘From the Castle at Marlborough.’

Dear me, dear me, there is audaciousness, if you like!  And you ha’ followed them so far, sir?’

Sir George nodded and turned to the crowd.  ‘A guinea for news!’ he cried.  ‘Who saw them go through Chippenham!’

He had not long to wait for the answer.  ’They never went through Chipnam!’ a thick voice hiccoughed from the rear of the press.

‘They came this way out of Calne,’ Sir George retorted, singling the speaker out, and signing to the people to make way that he might get at him.