But there was more than twenty miles to travel, and, push on as they would, night had fallen ere ever they came there.

At length, when they were weary of the dark and the rough road, the sailor pulled up at a spot upon the river's brink--where there was a little wharf, but no houses that they could see--saying that this was the place.

Dismounting, he gave his horse to the groom to hold, and, going to the wharf, asked in a loud voice if the boat from the _Margaret_ was there, to which a voice answered, "Aye." Then he talked for a minute to those in the boat, though what he said they could not hear, and ran back again, bidding them dismount, and adding that they had done well to come, as Master Castell was much worse, and did nothing but cry for his daughter.
The groom he told to lead the horses a little way along the bank till he found an inn that stood there, where he must await their return or further orders, and to Betty he suggested that she should go with him, as there was but little place left in the boat.

This she was willing enough to do, thinking it all part of the plan for her carrying off; but Margaret would have none of it, saying that unless her cousin came with her she would not stir another step.

So grumbling a little the sailor gave way, and hurried them both to some wooden steps and down these into a boat, of which they could but dimly see the outline.
So soon as ever they were seated side by side in the stern it was pushed off, and rowed away rapidly into the darkness, while one of the sailors lit a lantern which he fastened to the bow, and far out on the river, as though in answer to the signal, another star of light appeared, towards which they headed.