"I have told you how great a boon you will confer. Believe me,
sir, to me it is worth twice, a hundred times the value of
those trinkets."

"You shall have my horses, sir, and my note of hand as well,"
said Foster firmly.

"Your note of hand is of no value to me, sir. I look to leave
England to-morrow, and I know not when I may return."

Thus in the end it came about that the bargain was concluded.
Cynthia's maid was awakened and bidden to rise. The horses
were harnessed to Crispin's coach, and Crispin, leaning upon
Harry Foster's arm, descended and took his place within the
carriage.

Leaving the London blood at the door of the Suffolk Arms,
crushing, burning, damning and ratting himself at Crispin's
magnificence, they rolled away through the night in the
direction of Ipswich.

Ten o"clock in the morning beheld them at the door of the
Garter Inn at Harwich. But the jolting of the coach had so
hardly used Crispin that he had to be carried into the
hostelry. He was much exercised touching the Lady Jane and his
inability to go down to the quay in quest of her, when he was
accosted by a burly, red-faced individual who bluntly asked him
was he called Sir Crispin Galliard. Ere he could frame an
answer the man had added that he was Thomas Jackson, master of