But Margaret rode on, reckless of all the ills that might await her, and thinking only of the lover that she was to meet at the end of her mad journey.
The guard of the mail-coach observed to the driver of the Ipswich mail, as Margaret met it, about two miles before she reached Colchester, "That's Mr. Cobbold's Crop horse! There must be something the matter in the family by the pace the groom is going. Did you see the fellow's stable-dress up to his knees? There's something amiss, or the horse is stolen."
When he came to Ipswich, the man mentioned the circumstance at the coach-office, and said he was positive something was wrong.
Mr. Bailey, the postmaster, immediately sent a messenger with a note, to inform Mr. Cobbold that the guard had met some one riding his horse very fast on the London road.
It was five o'clock when the man rang loudly at the porch-bell; the footman came down in a great hurry and carried up the note to his master's room, who quickly ordered him to go to the stable and see if George Teager and the horses were safe. He ran to the stable, and true enough, he found the Crop horse gone. He called out to George, whom, at first, he suspected of having gone off with the horse, "Hullo, George; Crop is gone!"
The old man jumped up. "What's the matter? Who calls?"
"One of the horses is stolen, George; you must come down immediately; it was met two miles this side of Colchester!"
"Come, come, Tom, none o' your tricks! this is only some of your nonsense: can't ye let an old fellow rest in his bed without playing off your boy's tricks? what have you done with my stable dress?"
"I know nothing of your stable-dress; I tell you master will be here in a minute: on with your livery. I'll be whipped if somebody has not stolen the fustians! Come, old boy, this is no fun, it's as true as you are staring there; so up with you."
George found by his companion's earnest manner that he spoke the truth, and putting on his livery he came down; he was, as many a man at his age and in his situation would be, much bewildered. He ascertained, however, that the thief had taken his master's new saddle and bridle, and a small stick of his own. He observed that it must have been an old practitioner, by the straw being littered down to the door, and pointed out to Thomas that the horse's hoofs had been covered with straw to prevent them clattering on the pavement of the yard. His master soon came down and easily tracked the horse to the paddock gate. Of course all the family were roused. "Go directly, George, up to Mr. Spink's, the dealer's, who got this horse for me, and knows him as well as you do, and order a post-chaise from the Lion, and bring Mr. Spink here. You must both of you pursue the thief, even to London. Be as quick as you can."