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"Gone," he muttered; "gone, as neat as ever a man went yet." He ran back to the fly, and drove to the establishment of Mr. Hogson, grocer and general dealer the shop of the village of Lisford. Here Mr. Carter was informed that the key of "Woodbine Cottage had been given up on the evening of that very day on which he had seen Joseph Wilmot sitting in the little parlour.
Find your way there I'm going there now, and shall be there long before you you understand?" "Yes; Woodbine Cottage, Lisford I shan't forget! God speed you, father! God help you!" "He is the God of sinners," thought the wretched girl. "He gave Cain a long lifetime in which to repent of his sins."
He was just going to step into it, when a hand touched him lightly on the shoulder, and turning sharply and angrily round, he recognized the gentleman who called himself Major Vernon. But the Major was by no means the shabby stranger who had watched the marriage of Philip Jocelyn and Laura Dunbar in Lisford Church.
If she had gone away at all, she must have gone out by one of the smaller gates by the lodge-gate upon the Lisford Road, perhaps, and thus back to Shorncliffe. "But then, why, in Heaven's name, had Margaret set out to walk home when the fly was waiting for her at the gates; when her lover was also waiting for her, full of anxiety to know the result of the step she had taken?
I'm sure of that, for Tim Baling was drivin' it and wished me good-night." Mr. Carter left the Lisford emporium, and ran over to the Rose and Crown, where he saw the man who had driven him to Shorncliffe station.
The Major had been very lucky in his speculations on the Shorncliffe races, and had gone straight away from the course to the village of Lisford, where he took up his abode at the Hose and Crown, a bright-looking hostelry, where a traveller could have his steak or his chop done to a turn in one of the cosiest kitchens in all Warwickshire.
Chrysanthemums and dahlias, gay-looking China-asters, and all the lingering flowers that light up the early winter landscape, had been collected to strew the pathway beneath the bride's pretty feet. All the brightest evergreens in the Lisford gardens had been gathered as a fitting sacrifice for the "young lady from the Abbey."
Why didn't you look after the poor lame gentleman who stayed at Woodbine Cottage, Lisford, and dressed up his pretty daughter as a housemaid, and acted a little play to sell you, you precious clever police-officer in plain clothes. Take me with you, Mr. Detective; stop me in going abroad to improve my mind and manners by foreign travel, do, Mr.
"The remains were removed from Winchester to Lisford Church, where Percival Dunbar was buried in a vault beneath the chancel.
She went out at this gateway because it was the only point of egress by which she could leave the park without being seen by the keeper of a lodge. The dim morning light was grey in the sky before she met any one whom she could ask to direct her to Woodbine Cottage; but at last a man came out of a farmyard with a couple of milk-pails, and directed her to the Lisford Road.
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