"I will join you there, and do my best to get
horses for you in the meantime, and bring them along with me."
"That's splendid," said I, "but I'd rather we met outside the village.
Not more than a mile and a half beyond it on the Newcastle road there's a
little wayside ale-house called the 'Ring of Bells,' at the foot of a
steep hill, with a large pool ringed with pines, known as Cop Mere, in
front of it. It's a lonely place and will serve better. Small place as
Eccleshall is, I shall skirt round it, and so get to the 'Ring of Bells.'
You cannot miss it if you ride through the village on the Newcastle road.
Whoever's there first will await the other."
"Then in about three hours we'll meet at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I hope
I shall bring good news of the Colonel. Believe me, dear lady, short of
foul play on Brocton's part, and we have no reason to suspect that, your
father will be all right. Plain John Freake is not without influence. As
for the ruffian lying dead in the road, think no more of him."
So saying he unhitched his horse, led her into the road, and mounted. He
bowed and smiled, said cheerily, "A pleasant walk to the 'Ring of Bells,'"
and cantered off.
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