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Updated: June 19, 2025
It lies by the side of the main road to Bardon Mill, which is the most convenient station for travellers to alight at who wish to visit the Roman Wall and the Roman city of Borcovicus, and the Northumberland lakes.
"If not we'll take a brief recess until Doctor Bardon returns." One after another the jurors shook their heads. Whatever the coroner did was sufficient for them. Coroner Busby had picked men he knew would agree with him. The recess had lasted but a few minutes, when Doctor Bardon reappeared. His face wore a knowing look that was almost triumphant.
"'Tis well," said Prince John; then added, after a moment's pause, "Bardon, it imports our service that thou keep a strict watch on Maurice De Bracy so that he shall not observe it, however And let us know of his motions from time to time with whom he converses, what he proposeth. Fail not in this, as thou wilt be answerable." Hugh Bardon bowed, and retired.
"Will you let me have the diamond ring?" "Yes, sir." She took it off. "But please be careful of it, for it it is very precious to me." The coroner nodded. "That is all just now," and as Margaret let fall the veil again, he called Doctor Bardon to his side. A whispered conversation ensued, and the young physician left with the precious circlet Margaret's engagement ring in an envelope.
A second look confirmed it. "Why, that's the Bardon chap we took away from that farmer!" exclaimed Frank. "That's right!" cried Andy. "Hello, Link!" he called genially. "What you doing here?" "Oh, how are you?" asked the farm lad. "Glad to see you all again," and he nodded to each one in turn.
Margaret lay like one dead, every particle of color having forsaken her cheeks. Raymond waited anxiously, and then applied his ear to her heart. "A doctor!" he cried hoarsely. "A doctor, for Heaven's sake! She is dying!" Doctor Bardon came forward, followed by Doctor Bird, and both looked at the unconscious one closely and critically.
Sir Rufus Quaryll, her neighbor and hot lover; the Lord Fawley, who had vainly wooed her for wife; Sir John Radlett, who had the sense to love her and the sense to hold his tongue; Captain Bardon, the bold and bluff; and young Lord Richard Ingrow, with the delicate, girlish face that masked the amazing rake.
Dimly, as one in a dream, she could hear the fury of the Cavaliers find words. "You black Jack, I will clip your ears," Rufus promised. "Blood him. Blood him," bawled Fawley. "Slit his nose," Radlett suggested. "Duck him in the horse-pond," suggested Bardon. "Set him in the stocks," Ingrow advised.
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