seemed perpetually beginning to snow and perpetually leaving off; and
the darkness was intense. Time and again we walked into trees; time and
again found ourselves adrift among garden borders or stuck like a ram in
the thicket. Rowley had possessed himself of the matches, and he was
neither to be terrified nor softened. "No, I will not, Mr. Anne, sir,"
he would reply. "You know he tell me to wait till we were over the 'ill.
It's only a little way now. Why, and I thought you was a soldier, too!"
I was at least a very glad soldier when my valet consented at last to
kindle a thieves' match. From this we easily lit the lantern: and
thenceforward, through a labyrinth of woodland paths, were conducted by
its uneasy glimmer. Both booted and great-coated, with tall hats much of
a shape, and laden with booty in the form of a despatch-box, a case of
pistols, and two plump valises, I thought we had very much the look of a
pair of brothers returning from the sack of Amersham Place.

We issued at last upon a country by-road where we might walk abreast and
without precaution. It was nine miles to Aylesbury, our immediate
destination; by a watch, which formed part of my new outfit, it should
be about half-past three in the morning; and as we did not choose to
arrive before daylight, time could not be said to press. I gave the
order to march at ease.

"Now, Rowley," said I, "so far so good. You have come, in the most
obliging manner in the world, to carry these valises. The question is,
what next? What are we to do at Aylesbury? or, more particularly, what
are you? Thence, I go on a journey. Are you to accompany me?"

He gave a little chuckle. "That's all settled already, Mr. Anne, sir,"
he replied. "Why, I've got my things here in the valise--a half a dozen
shirts and what not; I'm all ready, sir: just you lead on: _you'll_
see."

"The devil you have!" said I. "You made pretty sure of your welcome."

"If you please, sir," said Rowley.

He looked up at me, in the light of the lantern, with a boyish shyness
and triumph that awoke my conscience. I could never let this innocent
involve himself in the perils and difficulties that beset my course,
without some hint of warning, which it was a matter of extreme delicacy
to make plain enough and not too plain.

"No, no," said I; "you may think you have made a choice, but it was
blindfold, and you must make it over again. The Count's service is a
good one; what are you leaving it for? Ar