at the tent, Dacre and Geoffrey found only two of their
fellow-conspirators, both youths, awaiting them. But it was very early,
not 9.30, and the hour of meeting was 11. The next man to arrive was Mr.
Sydney, who, fearing a shot from his old enemy, the gout, more than a
bullet from a Republican rifle, stepped gingerly from the omnibus that
dropped him near the lines. As Geoffrey shook his hand, a pang went
through his conscience for ever having made a jest of so simple and
brave a heart.

By ones and twos, as the hours passed, the Royalists came to the
rendezvous. Not once had they met with question or opposition. The
sentries, as they passed, stood to "attention," evidently regarding them
as officers belonging to the camp.

The mess tent was well removed from the regular roads of the camp, and
only a few soldiers passed near it all the morning.

Once, while Geoffrey stood at the open door, a mounted artillery officer
rode past. He was a young man, with a strongly-marked, stern face, and
as he passed the tent it seemed to Geoffrey that he cast a sudden, keen
glance within. At first, Geoffrey was so convinced of this that he
turned to speak to Dacre; but glancing after the officer, he saw him
stop and speak to a man who was coming toward the tent, and whom
Geoffrey recognized as one of the military men of the previous night's
meeting. After a few words they saluted like friends and separated.

"You know that officer, sir?" asked Geoffrey, as the old soldier came to
the tent door. "I thought he looked this way in an odd manner as he
passed."

"Oh, yes," answered the other; "that is young Devereux, the clever
fellow who has invented the tremendous gun, you know, and revolutionized
the old tactics. An able fellow, sir--and a colonel at thirty-six. I
knew his father forty years ago at Woolwich, when we were cadets."

"You think I was mistaken, then, in fancying that he looked this way?"
asked Geoffrey.

"I should say so--bless my soul! I should hope so, too. That's the
cleverest fellow in the whole service; and we don't want to meet him at
the very start."

"Perhaps he may be with us?" suggested Geoffrey.

"No; it isn't likely. Devereux is with nothing but science and
discipline. But if he were with us he would be better than twenty
regiments."

"And against us?"

"Ah! there are circumstances that alter cases. With us he would be free
to act on his own devising, for we should make him commander of the
forces.