" she croaked, "I'm here t' save the man you love. Come sit ye
and list to my telling." Mrs. Agatha faltered, whereupon the Sergeant
caught her hand, drawing her into the arbour: and there, sitting beside
the old woman they hearkened to her story.

"Mam," said the Sergeant, "ha' ye told my lady Carlyon aught o' this?

"Nay, nay," answered old Betty, "I had a mind to--but they wouldna let
me see my lady--the footmen and lackeys laughed at poor old Bet and
turned her from the door--so I did come to tell my brave
sojer-sergeant."

"'Tis just as well, mam," nodded the Sergeant, "for now you shall come
wi' us to his honour, the Major will hear you, I'll warrant me, so come
your ways, mam."

"Aye," said Mrs. Agatha, "and you shall eat and drink likewise and
after the Sergeant shall drive you back to Inchbourne an he will."

Thus Roger Bent, busied in the herb-garden, chancing to lift his head,
stood suddenly upright, staggered back and fell into a clump of
parsley; and propped upon an elbow, stared, as well he might, for into
the sacred precincts of her stillroom went Mrs. Agatha and the Sergeant
but between them tottered the bowed form of old Betty the witch.

"Lord!" exclaimed Roger, ruffling up his shock of hair. "My eyes is
sure a-deceiving of me--an' that's what!"

CHAPTER XXXVI

HOW THEY RODE TO INCHBOURNE

"And what time doth the moon rise, Zebedee?" enquired the Major as they
swung their horses into the high road.

"Ten forty-five about, your honour,"

"Then we've no need for hurry. And egad Zeb, it sounds a wild story!"

"It do so, sir, cock and bullish as you might say."

"To abduct my lady, Zeb!"

"On Saturday night next as ever was, your honour."

"And this is Friday night!" said the Major thoughtfully.

"Which do give us good time to circumvent enemy's manoover."

"How many of the rogues will be there, think you?"

"Can't say for sure, sir. 'Twas three on 'em as ambushed me t'other
night."

"Why as to that Zeb, as to that I imagine you brought that drubbing on
yourself by your somewhat frequent and indiscriminate--er--pewter-play
as 'twere."

"Mayhap sir, though if so be rogues were same rogues I should ha'
knowed same, though to be sure 'twere a darkish night and they were
masked. Howsobe, my Lord Medhurst pinked one of 'em, his point was
prettily bloodied."

"Are you armed, Zeb?"

"Nought to speak of, sir."

"What have you?"

"A sword sir, and a brace o' travelling-pi