Chapter 61
After throwing George Caresfoot into the bramble-bush, Arthur walked steadily back to the inn, where he arrived, quite composed in manner, at about half-past seven. Old Sam, the ostler, was in the yard, washing a trap. He went up to him, and asked when the next train started for London. "There is one as leaves Roxham at nine o'clock, sir, and an uncommon fast one, I'm told. But you bean't a-going yet, be you, sir?" "Yes, have the gig ready in time to catch the train." "Very good, sir. Been to the fire, I suppose sir?" he went on, dimly perceiving that Arthur's clothes were torn. "It were a fine place, it wore, and it did blaze right beautiful." "No; what fire?" "Bless me, sir, didn't you see it last night?--why, Isleworth Hall, to be sure. It wore burnt right out, and all as w
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