dium height, whose youthful face and uprightness of carriage
assorted ill with the grey of his hair, pronouncing that greyness
premature. He seemed all clad in leather, for where his jerkin stopped
his boots began. A cuirass and feathered headpiece lay in a corner,
whilst on the table Kenneth espied a broad-brimmed hat, a huge sword,
and a brace of pistols.

As the boy's eyes came back to the burly figure on the hearth, he was
puzzled by a familiar, intangible something in the fellow's face.

He was racking his mind to recall where last he had seen it, when with
slightly elevated eyebrows and a look of recognition in his somewhat
prominent blue eyes.

"Soul of my body," exclaimed the man in surprise, "Master Stewart, as I
live."

"Stuart!" cried both sergeant and trooper in a gasp, starting forward to
scan their prisoner's face.

At that the burly captain broke into a laugh.

"Not the young man Charles Stuart," said he; "no, no. Your captive is
none so precious. It is only Master Kenneth Stewart, of Bailienochy."

"Then it is not even our man," grumbled the soldier.

"But Stewart is not the name he gave," cried the sergeant. "Jasper
Blount he told me he was called. It seems that after all we have
captured a malignant, and that I was well advised to bring him to you."

The captain made a gesture of disdain. In that moment Kenneth recognized
him. He was Harry Hogan--the man whose life Galliard had saved in
Penrith.

"Bah, a worthless capture, Beddoes," he said.

"I know not that," retorted the sergeant. "He carries papers which he
states are from Joseph Ashburn, of Castle Marleigh, to Colonel
Pride. Colonel Pride's name is on the package, but may not that be a
subterfuge? Why else did he say he was called Blount?"

Hogan's brows were of a sudden knit.

"Faith, Beddoes, you are right. Remove his sword and search him."

Calmly Kenneth suffered them to carry out this order. Inwardly he boiled
at the delay, and cursed himself for having so needlessly given the
name of Blount. But for that, it was likely Hogan would have straightway
dismissed him. He cheered himself with the thought that after all they
would not long detain him. Their search made, and finding nothing upon
him but Ashburn's letter, surely they would release him.

But their search was very thorough. They drew off his boots, and
well-nigh stripped him naked, submitting each article of his apparel to
a careful examination. At length it was over,