act as guide to you as far as the camp. It will be strange
if I cannot find roads which shall baffle these blundering soldiers.'

'A very wise and seasonable proposition,' cried Sir Gervas. 'Master
Marot, a pinch from my snuff-box, which is ever a covenant of friendship
with its owner. Adslidikins, man! though our acquaintance at present
is limited to my having nearly hanged you on one occasion, yet I have
a kindly feeling towards you, though I wish you had some more savoury
trade.'

'So do many who ride o' night,' Marot answered, with a chuckle. 'But we
had best start, for the east is whitening, and it will be daylight ere
we come to Bridgewater.'

Leaving the ill-omened farmhouse behind us we set off with all military
precautions, Marot riding with me some distance in front, while two of
the troopers covered the rear. It was still very dark, though a thin
grey line on the horizon showed that the dawn was not far off. In spite
of the gloom, however, our new acquaintance guided us without a moment's
halt or hesitation through a network of lanes and bypaths, across fields
and over bogs, where the waggons were sometimes up to their axles in
bog, and sometimes were groaning and straining over rocks and stones. So
frequent were our turnings, and so often did we change the direction of
our advance, that I feared more than once that our guide was at fault;
yet, when at last the first rays of the sun brightened the landscape we
saw the steeple of Bridgewater parish church shooting up right in front
of us.

'Zounds, man! you must have something of the cat in you to pick your way
so in the dark,' cried Sir Gervas, riding up to us. 'I am right glad to
see the town, for my poor waggons have been creaking and straining until
my ears are weary with listening for the snap of the axle-bar. Master
Marot, we owe you something for this.'

'Is this your own particular district?' I asked, 'or have you a like
knowledge of every part of the south?'

'My range,' said he, lighting his short, black pipe, 'is from Kent to
Cornwall, though never north of the Thames or Bristol Channel. Through
that district there is no road which is not familiar to me, nor as much
as a break in the hedge which I could not find in blackest midnight. It
is my calling. But the trade is not what it was. If I had a son I should
not bring him up to it. It hath been spoiled by the armed guards to
the mail-coaches, and by the accursed goldsmiths, who have opened the