ncey between his teeth. "Is that a decent
way to talk to a man who is going out? Never heed him, Dick! Let him
wait for his dirty guineas till we return."

"Thirty guineas?" hiccoughed Richard. "It was only eight.
Anyhow--wait'll I've sli' the gullet of's Mr. Wilding." He checked on
a thought that suddenly occurred to him. He turned to Vallancey with a
ludicrous solemnity. "'Sbud!" he swore. "'S a scurvy trick I'm playing
the Duke. 'S treason to him--treason no less." And he smote the table
with his open hand.

"What's that?" quoth Blake so sharply, his eyes so suddenly alert that
Vallancey made haste to cover up his fellow rebel's indiscretion.

"It's the brandy-and-Canary makes him dream," said he with a laugh, and
rising as he spoke he announced that it was high time they should set
out. Thus he brought about a bustle that drove the Duke's business from
Richard's mind, and left Blake without a pretext to pursue his quest
for information. But the mischief was done, and Blake's suspicions were
awake. He bethought him now of dark hints that Richard had let fall
to Vallancey in the past few days, and of hints less dark with which
Vallancey--who was a careless fellow at ordinary times--had answered.
And now this mention of the Duke and of treason to him--to what Duke
could it refer but Monmouth?

Blake was well aware of the wild tales that were going round, and he
began to wonder now was aught really afoot, and was his good friend
Westmacott in it?

If there was, he bethought him that the knowledge might be of value,
and it might help to float once more his shipwrecked fortunes. The haste
with which Vallancey had proffered a frivolous explanation of Richard's
words, the bustle with which upon the instant he swept Richard and Sir
Rowland from the house to get to horse and ride out to Bridgwater were
in themselves circumstances that went to heighten those suspicions of
Sir Rowland's. But lacking all opportunity for investigation at the
moment, he deemed it wisest to say no more just then lest he should
betray his watchfulness.

They were the first to arrive upon the ground--an open space on the
borders of Sedgemoor, in the shelter of Polden Hill. But they had not
long to wait before Wilding and Trenchard rode up, attended by a groom.
Their arrival had an oddly sobering effect upon young Westmacott, for
which Mr. Vallancey was thankful. For during their ride he had begun to
fear that he had carried too far the busines