’I have but lately got home, Reo, and so have not heard quite all the news.  But I have nothing to do with the four-in-hand club.’

‘Miss Wych bade me come for her at eleven,’ said Reo, going straight to his point.  ’And as she went in, Mr. Nightingale’s man laughed and said I’d better not lose my time.  Eleven to-morrow would be bearer the mark.  And I might have told Mr. Falkirk, sir,—­but you were nearer by, and—­a trifle quicker.  So I came.  They’re to stop at Greenbush for supper.  And if some of those young men come out as fit to drive as they went in, it’ll be something they never did before.’

‘You came back this way,—­with the carriage?’

‘Yes, Mr. Rollo.’

‘How do the horses go?’

‘First-rate, sir.  Want nothing but using.’

‘Who is with you?  Dingee or Lewis?’

‘Lewis.’

’You are not fit to be up all night, Reo.  I will take Lewis, and drop you at Chickaree as we pass.’

’Fit to do anything for my little lady, Mr. Rollo.  And I know the horses.’

’Very well.  Go into the kitchen and get some refreshment.  Tell Lewis Miss Maryland and I are going out in the carriage, and we will leave him at Chickaree.  I will be ready in fifteen minutes.’

And in fifteen minutes Primrose had been apprized of the service required of her, was ready, and the party set out.

To Greenbush, round by Chickaree, was a drive of twenty miles or more; from Valley Garden it was something less.  The road was quiet enough at that hour, winding through a level part of the country, lying white and still in the unclouded moonlight; and Greenbush was reached in due time.  The place was little more now than one of those old taverns to be found on any stage route, with its settlement of out-buildings; but the present keeper of the house was an adept, and his suppers were famous.  The tavern, however, unlike most of its class, stood in a patch of rather thick woodland, and boasted a high surrounding fence and great gates at either entrance, having been once a grand mansion.  House and gateways were all alight now, and the winding approach through the trees was hung with swinging lamps.  But the entrances were guarded.

‘No carriage admitted till the four-in-hands come in!’ said the men on duty.

On foot, however, privately and humbly, the gentleman and lady were allowed entrance.  Rollo secured a comfortable room, with some difficulty, and also ordered and obtained supper, not without scruples and grumbles, all the strength of the house being enlisted in the interests of the coming guests; nevertheless money will do everything; and coffee, cold chicken and bread and butter were served in tolerable style.  It availed only for outward circumstances of comfort, for poor Rosy was extremely nervous and troubled in mind; very anxious for Rollo, very discomfited on account of Wych Hazel, very doubtful of the part she herself was to play.  Rollo himself was—­the red squirrel.