All the ordinary frequenters of the inn were ejected, while the best parlour was instantly prepared for the accommodation of his lordship and Pillichody.
But Rochester was far more anxious for Amabel than himself, and could not rest for a moment till assured by Dame Sherborne that she was restored to sensibility, and about to retire to rest.

He then became easy, and sat down to supper with Pillichody.

So elated was he by his success, that, yielding to his natural inclination for hard drinking, he continued to revel so freely and so long with his follower, that daybreak found them over their wine, the one toasting the grocer's daughter, and the other Patience, when they both staggered off to bed.
A couple of hours sufficed Rochester to sleep off the effects of his carouse.

At six o'clock he arose, and ordered his attendants to prepare to set out without delay.

When all was ready, he sent for Amabel, but she refused to come downstairs, and finding his repeated messages of no avail, he rushed into her room, and bore her, shrieking to his steed.
In an hour after this, they arrived at an old hall, belonging to the earl, in the neighbourhood of Oxford.