Chapter 28 - Page 2

continued their talk. This they were
not particularly inclined to, however, and began a game of cards,
leaving him to himself to finish his drink. This he did, quickly
tossing down both brandy and coffee the instant they were brought to
him, and then striding swaggering from the room and mounting his horse,
which waited in the street, and riding clattering off over the stones
at a fierce pace.

"Does he ride for a wager?" said Will Lovell, dealing the cards.

"He rides for some ill purpose, I swear," said Tom Tantillion. "Jack
Oxon never went in haste towards an honest deed; but to play some
devil's trick 'tis but nature to him to go full speed."

But what he rode for they never heard, neither they nor anyone else who
told the story, though 'twas sure that if he went to Wickben he came
back to town for a few hours at least, for there were those who saw him
the next day, but only one there was who spoke with him, and that one
my Lady Dunstanwolde herself.

Her ladyship rode out in the morning hoping, 'twas said, that the
fresh air and exercise would restore her strength and spirits. She rode
without attendant, and towards the country, and in the high road Sir
John Oxon joined her.

"I did not know he had been out of town," she said, when the mystery
was discussed. "He did not say so. He returned to Dunstanwolde House
with me, and we had talk together. He had scarce left me when I
remembered that I had forgot to say a thing to him I had wished to say.
So I sent Jenfry forth quickly to call him back. He had scarce had time
to turn the street's corner, but Jenfry returned, saying he was not
within sight."

"Whereupon you sent a note to his lodgings, was't not so?" asked Sir
Christopher.

"Yes," answered her ladyship, "but he had not returned there."

"Nor ever did," said Sir Christopher, whenever the mystery was referred
to afterwards; "nor ever did, and where he went to from that hour only
the devil knows, for no man or woman that one has heard of has ever
clapt eyes on him since."

This was, indeed, the mysterious truth. After he entered the Panelled
Parlour at Dunstanwolde House it seemed that none had seen him, for the
fact was that by a strange chance even the lacquey who should have been
at his place in the entrance hall had allowed himself to be ensnared
from his duty by a pretty serving-wench, and had left his post for a
few minutes to make love to her in the servants' hall, during which
time 'twas plain Sir John must have left the house, opening the
entrance-door for himself unattended.

"Lord," said the lacquey in secret to his mates, "my