d it is my own belief that neither he nor any other farmer
in these parts hath any wealth left to hide, after two armies have been
quartered in turn upon them. Finding that his mouth remained closed,
they ran him up, as you saw, and would assuredly have toasted him like a
snipe, had I not stepped in and winged two of them with my barkers. The
others set upon me, but I pinked one through the forearm, and should
doubtless have given a good account of both of them but for your
incoming.'

'Right gallantly done!' I exclaimed. 'But where have I heard your name
before, Mr. Hector Marot?'

'Nay,' he answered, with a sharp, sidelong look, 'I cannot tell that.'

'It is familiar to mine ear,' said I.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, and continued to look to the priming
of his pistols, with a half-defiant and half-uneasy expression. He was
a very sturdy, deep-chested man, with a stern, square-jawed face, and a
white seam across his bronzed forehead as from a slash with a knife. He
wore a gold-edged riding-cap, a jacket of brown sad-coloured stuff much
stained by the weather, a pair of high rusty jack-boots, and a small
bob-wig.

Sir Gervas, who had been staring very hard at the man, suddenly gave a
start, and slapped his hand against his leg.

'Of course!' he cried. 'Sink me, if I could remember where I had seen
your face, but now it comes back to me very clearly.'

The man glanced doggedly from under his bent brows at each of us
in turn. 'It seems that I have fallen among acquaintances,' he said
gruffly; 'yet I have no memory of ye. Methinks, young sirs, that your
fancy doth play ye false.'

'Not a whit,' the Baronet answered quietly, and, bending forward, he
whispered a few words into the man's ear, which caused him to spring
from his seat and take a couple of quick strides forward, as though to
escape from the house.

'Nay, nay!' cried Sir Gervas, springing between him and the door, 'you
shall not run away from us. Pshaw, man! never lay your hand upon your
sword. We have had bloody work enough for one night. Besides, we would
not harm you.'

'What mean ye, then? What would ye have?' he asked, glancing about like
some fierce wild beast in a trap.

'I have a most kindly feeling to you, man, after this night's work,'
cried Sir Gervas. 'What is it to me how ye pick up a living, as long as
you are a true man at heart? Let me perish if I ever forget a face which
I have once seen, and your bonne mine, with the trade-mar