Even in the dark, and from the distance of the gate, he could tell that the mansion was huge. What the hell had Joe been thinking? Who did the lad think he was, to court a girl who had been brought up in a place like this? Even if her parents didn't get a team of lawyers on it to have the marriage declared null as soon as possible, what would he do with her? What was Oswy street to a lady brought up in a palace? A prison to her now, it seemed, but a palace nonetheless to him.

He hadn't been able to keep up with Joe. Curse his lungs! He had these occasional coughing fits and shortness of breath and running as fast as he could had aggravated it. He had been forced to stop to catch his breath, and when he had risen after resting his hands on his knees and to draw some deep squeaking breaths and cough, Joe had been nowhere in sight.

At least he knew where the lad was headed. He couldn't go home. That brother of Miss Pearl's had been willing to get Joe sacked over merely talking to his sister. God help him if he went there to collect her as his bride. For all he knew his son was being murdered inside there now. 

"Oi!" he called at the gate. "LET ME IN!" 

A man appeared out of the gatehouse, carrying a lantern. "No beggers! Bugger off, you, or we'll get the police!"

"I'm not here to beg! My son is here. He's a friend of Miss Pearl's. Please! Can I talk to someone!?" 

The groundskeeper looked at him up and down critically. Your son, a friend of Miss Pearl's? Well, fine, I'll see if there's someone you can speak to. Mark my word though, if ye're lying, ye'll sleep in a police cell tonight and find yerself in Northallerton tomorrow." He turned to walk to the house, but turned his head after a few steps. "If they don't just shoot ye." 

Bill watched the light of the lantern recede in the direction of the mansion with a sense of dread.