"
"What, kill him?"
"Lord, no; 'twas sixty yards off; but made him holler and squeak a good
un. Put thirty or forty shots into his back, I know."
"Give me your hand, Mr. Drake. I'll never forget that shot." Then she
began to cry.
"Doant ye, my lady, doant ye," said the honest fellow, and was within
an ace of blubbering for sympathy. "We ain't a lot o' babies, to see
our squire kidnaped. If you would lend Abel Moss there and me a couple
o' nags, we'll catch them yet, my lady."
"That we will," cried Abel. "You take me where you fired that shot, and
we'll follow the fresh wheel-tracks. They can't beat us while they keep
to a road."
The two men were soon mounted, and in pursuit, amid the cheers of the
now excited villagers. But still the perpetrators of the outrage had
more than an hour's start; and an hour was twelve miles.
And now Lady Bassett, who had borne up so bravely, was seized with a
deadly faintness, and supported into the house.
All this spread like wild-fire, and roused the villagers, and they must
have a hand in it. Parson had said Mr. Bassett was to blame; and that
passed from one to another, and so fermented that, in the evening, a
crowd collected round Highmore House and demanded Mr. Bassett.
The servants were alarmed, and said he was not at home.
Pages:
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248