The Story Continued by Marian Halcombe

“I don’t know, sir,” answered the man. “The horse is a mare, if you please, sir. She’s the highest-couraged thing we’ve got in the stables. Her name’s Brown Molly, sir, and she’ll go till she drops. Sir Percival usually takes Isaac of York for the short distances.” “And your shining courageous Brown Molly for the long?” “Yes, sir.” “Logical inference, Miss Halcombe,” continued the Count, wheeling round briskly, and addressing me. “Sir Percival is going a long distance today.” I made no reply. I had my own inferences to draw, from what I knew through the housekeeper and from what I saw before me, and I did not choose to share them with Count Fosco. When Sir Percival was in Cumberland (I thought to myself), he walked away a long distance, on Anne’s account, to question the family at Todd’s Corner. Now he is in Hampshire, is he going to drive away a long distance, on Anne’s account again, to question Mrs. Catherick at Welmingham? We all entered the house. As we crossed the hall Sir Percival came out from the library to meet us. He looked hurried and pale and anxious⁠—but for all that, he was in his most polite mood when he spoke to us. “I am sorry to say I am obliged to leave you,” he began⁠—“a long drive⁠—a matter that I can’t very well put off. I shall