--what
is, ain't. Furthermore and moreover Mr. Dalroyd would be the last man
I'd ha' you cross blades with on account o' the Captain's devilish
sword-play--that thrust of his in carte nigh did your honour's business
ten years ago, consequently to-day I hold my peace regarding suspicions
o' same."

"D'ye think he'd--kill me, Zeb?"

"I know 'twould sure be one or t'other o' ye, sir."

"And that's true enough!" said the Major and rode on again. "None the
less, Zeb," said he after awhile, "none the less he shall have another
opportunity of trying that thrust if, as I think, he is at the bottom
of this vile business."

But now they were drawing near to Inchbourne village and, reining up,
the Major glanced about him:

"What of our horses, Zebedee?" he questioned. "'Twill never do to go
clattering through the village at this hour."

"No more 'twill, sir. Old Bet's cottage lieth a good mile and a half
t'other side Inchbourne, d'ye see. Further on is a lane that fetcheth
a circuit about the village--this way, your honour." So they presently
turned off into a narrow and deep-rutted lane that eventually brought
them out upon a desolate expanse with the loom of woods beyond.

"Yonder's a spinney, sir, 'tis there we'll leave our horses."

Riding in among the trees they dismounted and led their animals into
the depths of the wood until they came to a little dell well hidden in
the brush. Here, having securely tethered their horses they sat down
to wait the moonrise.

"Sir," said the Sergeant, settling pistols in pockets, "this doth mind
me o' the night we lay in such another wood as this, the night we
stormed Douai, you'll mind I was wounded just arter we carried the
counterscarp----"

"By a pike-thrust meant for me, Zeb."

"'Twas a pretty fight, sir, 'specially the forcing o' the
palisadoes--'twere just such another night as this----"

"Only we were younger then, Zeb, years younger."

"Why as to that, sir, I've been feeling younger than e'er I was, of
late--and yonder cometh the moon at last! This way, sir!"

CHAPTER XXXVII

OF ROGUES AND PLOTS

The moon was fast rising as they left the shadow of the trees and
crossing a meadow presently saw before them the loom of a building
which, on near approach, proved to be a very tumble-down, two-storied
cottage. The Sergeant led the way past a broken fence through a
riotous tangle of weeds and so to a door whereon he rapped softly;
almost immediately it w