Ilchester appeared where and when Darley had predicted, and the driver made his way toward the coaching inn. As they passed into the yard, however, the stench of charred wood assailed their nostrils, and a terrible sight greeted their eyes.
“What a fire they have had!” Darley said.
The driver brought the coach up before the inn's doors, a crowd of gawkers moving slowly aside.
Darley handed Arabella down from the carriage, and they stood gazing at the blackened mass, the burnt remains of beams and posts jutting out at odd angles, the slate roof collapsed, its back twisted and broken. Smoke still spiralled up in thin plumes here and there, and a few young men with buckets picked their way through the half-fallen building, dousing any places where the fire threatened to rise up again.
“It is a miracle the whole inn was not lost,” Darley said.
A woman standing nearby turned to them and said, “It is a miracle, sir, but God sent rain and the fire was quelched.”
“Quenched,” Arabella corrected her. “But thank the Lord, all the same.”
“How did it start?” Darley enquired.
The woman, who was exceptionally pious-looking, turned to them. “'Twas the Bow Street men chasing some poor men for the reward money as did it. Set the hay afire with the flash from their pistols. Poor Mr. Berry will have them to court, he will. Lost half his stable of horses, and men were burned and laid low with smoke fighting the fire.”
“Bow Street?” Arabella said, turning on the woman, whom she towered over. “When was this?”
“Last night, ma'am.”
“Were they hurt? The Bow Street men?”
“I'm sorry to say they weren't, ma'am. They went off after the men they were chasing lest their rewards get away. Didn't stay to help quelch the fire they started.”
Arabella and Darley looked at each other. “Can we get horses here?” Darley wondered.
The woman shook her head. “Mr. Berry's doing his best, sir. You'd best talk to him.”
More careful enquiries assured them that indeed men claiming to be from Bow Street had been there, and everyone thought they'd started the fire in the stables, where shots had been fired.
Arabella was sure that only Darley could have found fresh horses in such a situation, for they were back on the road and pressing on in little more than an hour.
After Arabella's unexpected visit from Honoria d'Auvraye, she and Darley had gone looking for Morton. Mr. Townsend told them that Morton and Presley had stopped at Bow Street for firearms earlier in the evening, but no one had seen them since.
After that they had retreated to Morton's rooms to wait. A concerned Wilkes hovered over them, bringing cafe au lait and dainty cakes. Mr. Townsend had finally arrived saying that a note had come from Morton for Sir Nathaniel. Morton and Presley had gone with Captain Westcott in pursuit of supporters of Bonaparte who were suspected of murder. They had set out down the Great West Road that very night.
Darley had hesitated only a moment, then proposed they set out in pursuit.
“But where are they going?” Arabella had asked.
“Where is Bonaparte?” Darley had answered.
“Plymouth, as you know very well.”
“Then that is where we will go, too, for there we shall find Mr. Morton.”