|On arriving at Corbridge, the sheriff found that the carriage had taken
the high road to Newcastle, the crossroad by Whittingham and Stamfordham
being impracticable, and accordingly he and his troop galloped off in
that direction; but when they reached the extensive moor that skirts the
town, they discovered that a deviation from the direct course had been
made on the left, and that the travellers had crossed, or attempted to
cross the moor to Gosforth.
The road chosen was so bad, that it seemed almost certain the carriage
would be found buried up to the axle-tree in a bog, and with that
confident expectation the pursuers took the same route.
From appearances on the road, it was sufficiently clear that the heavy
vehicle had been more than once partially engulfed, and could only have
been extricated with difficulty--but it had reached firm ground at last,
and had gone on to Gosforth.
About three miles further on the pursuers descried it slowly, rumbling
on towards Blagdon Park. Cheered by the sight, they accelerated their
pace, and shouting loudly as they went on, soon caused the carriage to
stop.
Anxious to make the intended arrest without any appearance of violence,
the sheriff ordered a halt of his followers, and rode up to the
carriage, attended merely by Jesmond.
Lady Webb and the two women-servants inside had been greatly alarmed by
the shouting of the pursuers and sudden stoppage of the vehicle, and Sir
John thrust his head out of the window to see what was the matter.
Just then the sheriff came up, and saluting him formally explained his
business. Sir John replied rather angrily, and declared in positive
terms that there was no one in the carriage beside himself and Lady
Webb and their two women-servants.
As the sheriff expressed a doubt, Sir John called to his man-servant to
come down and open the door, and immediately got out.
“Now, Sir William--pray satisfy yourself!” he cried.
“I must trouble Lady Webb to alight--and the two women,” said the
sheriff.
The injunction was obeyed by her ladyship, though not without strong
expressions of displeasure.
As soon as they had all come forth, Jesmond got into the carriage, and
looked under the seats, but found only trunks and boxes.
As he emerged with a crestfallen look, he was jeered by Sir John and her
ladyship. The sheriff, too, blamed him for the blunder he had made.
“I am certain the Pretender is in the carriage, Sir William,” he said.
“Then find him,” cried the sheriff.
“Ay, find him, fellow, if you can,” added Sir John, derisively.
“He is here,” cried Jesmond, pointing to the footman, a tall, handsome
young man.
An exclamation from Sir John was checked by her ladyship, who made a
private sign to the footman to hold his tongue.
“You are not making a second blunder, I trust?” said the sheriff.
“No, no! rest easy, Sir William! All right now! I didn't recognise him
at first in his disguise. But now I'll swear to him.”
“You will swear that I am the Chevalier de Saint George, whom you call
the Pretender?” cried the footman.
“I will,” said Jesmond.
Again Sir John would have interfered, if a look from her ladyship had
not kept him quiet.
“You need have no hesitation, Sir William,” said Jesmond. “I will take
all consequences on my own head.”
“But your head is nothing,” rejoined the sheriff.
After a moment's consideration, he told Sir John Webb he must turn back,
and accompany him to Newcastle.
Sir John protested vehemently against the order, and declared it would
put him to the greatest inconvenience.
“I cannot help that,” said the sheriff. “I own I am somewhat perplexed,
but a great responsibility rests with me, and I am afraid of committing
an error.”
“Then I warn you that you will commit a very great error indeed, if you
take me to Newcastle,” said Sir John.
“We are wasting time here,” cried the sheriff. “Your ladyship will
be pleased to re-enter the carriage,” he added, in a polite, but
authoritative tone to Lady Webb--“and you, Sir John.”
The women servants followed, and the footman was about to shut the door,
when the sheriff told him he must get in likewise.
Finding Sir John was about to resist the intrusion, Jesmond pushed the
young man in, vociferating in a mocking voice:
“Room for his majesty, King James the Third!”
Irritated to the last point, Sir John would certainly have resented the
insult if Lady Webb had not held him fast.
She could not, however, prevent him from putting his head out from the
window, and shouting to the sheriff:
“Where is this farce to end, Sir William?”
“Most likely at the Tower of London,” was the sarcastic reply.
“Make no rejoinder, Sir John,” said Lady Webb. “You'll have the laugh
against him by-and-by.”
The coach was then turned round, and guarded by the troop of yeomen,
proceeding slowly towards Newcastle.