He saw indeed the face of Will Law inside the carriage, a face pale,
melancholy, and yet firm.

"Get you back into the city!" cried Will Law. "This is no place for you,
Jack."

"Boy! Are you mad, entirely mad?" cried Law, pushing his way directly
into the carriage and reaching out with an arm of authority for the
sword which he saw resting beside his brother against the seat. "No
place for me! 'Tis no place for you, for either of us. Turn back. This
foolishness must go no further!"

"It must go on now to the end," said Will Law, wearily. "Mr. Wilson's
carriage is long past due."

"But you--what do you mean? You've had no hand in this. Even had
you--why, boy, you would be spitted in an instant by this fellow."

"And would not that teach you to cease your mad pranks, and use to
better purpose the talents God hath given you? Yours is the better
chance, Jack."

"Peace!" cried John Law, tears starting to his eyes. "I'll not argue
that. Driver, turn back for home!"

The coachman at the box touched his hat with a puzzled air. "I beg
pardon, sir," said he, "but I was under orders of the gentleman inside."

"You were sent for Mr. John Law."