prevent nor follow him?"

"I'll go with you now, if you'll give chase," whimpered Richard, feeling
himself for once the craven that he was.

"If?" echoed Wilding scornfully, and dragged him past the gate and up
towards the house even as he spoke. "Is there room for a doubt of it?
Have you horses, at least?"

"To spare," said Richard as they hurried on. They skirted the house and
found the stable door open as Blake had left it. Old Jasper followed
with a lamp which burned steadily, so calm was the air of that July
night. In three minutes they had saddled a couple of nags; in five they
were riding for the bridge and the road to Weston Zoyland.

"It is a miracle you remained in Bridgwater," said Richard as they rode.
"How came you to be left behind?"

"I had a task assigned me in the town against the Duke's return
to-morrow," Wilding explained, and he spoke almost mechanically, his
mind full of--anguished by--thoughts of Ruth.

"Against the Duke's return?" cried Richard, first surprised and then
thinking that Wilding spoke at random. "Against the Duke's return?" he
repeated.

"That is what I said?"

"But the Duke is marching to Gloucester."

"The Duke is marching by circuitous ways to Sedgemoor," answered
Wilding, never dreaming that at this time of day there could be the
slightest imprudence in saying so much, indeed, taking little heed of
what he said, his mind obsessed by the other, to him, far weightier
matter.

"To Sedgemoor?" gasped Westmacott.

"Aye--to take Feversham by surprise--to destroy King James's soldiers in
their beds. He should be near upon the attack by now. But there! Spur on
and save your breath if we are to overtake Sir Rowland."

They pounded on through the night at a breakneck pace which they never
slackened until, when within a quarter of a mile or so of Penzoy Pound,
where the army was encamped and slumbering by now, they caught sight of
the musketeers' matches glowing in the dark ahead of them. An outpost
barred their progress; but Richard had the watchword, and he spurred
ahead shouting "Albemarle," and the soldiers fell back and gave them
passage. On they galloped, skirting Penzoy Pound and the army sleeping
in Utter unconsciousness of the fate that was creeping stealthily upon
it out of the darkness and mists across the moors; they clattered on
past Langmoor Stone and dashed straight into the village, Richard never
drawing rein until he reached the door of the cottage where Fever