Part 48 (1/2)

”Well, William,” said I. ”Any more coincidences?”

”Yes, sir,” said he, and began his hand-was.h.i.+ng.

”You'll die a rich man, William.”

”No, sir. This particular coincidence made me the poorer by, I should say,” suspending his was.h.i.+ng to calculate, ”some five s.h.i.+llings.”

”The devil it did! How was that?”

”Your honour's clothes that you left behind, sir, when you were trans.m.u.ted, as my lord would say, were stolen.”

”And you value them at five s.h.i.+llings! I ought to crack your head for you.”

”Yes, sir. Cast-offs sells very cheap, sir. But the coincidence, sir!

I've not really come to that yet.”

”Go on, William! You interest me deeply.”

”I found them, sir, at the bottom of the garden, torn to rags, sir!”

”And sold 'em for fivepence! Eh, thrifty William?”

”Sixpence, to be exact, sir!”

The Colonel rushed me off, but I found time to give the rascal a crown, which put him sixpence in pocket. A servant ought to have his vails, and, besides, William's concern amused me a good crown's worth.

This was late on in the night after the final decision to go back, and since then I had been scouting miles behind the main body of our rear-guard, so as to make sure that the Duke's horse were not on our track. I had slept by driblets as opportunity offered. Now, my purpose accomplished, I was looking forward to supper and bed, having left a patrol of fresh men some six miles back to watch the southern road.

There was one thing in my mind, however, that must be attended to first.

I must see Mistress Hardy of Hardiwick. My heart ached for her, for I knew how sorely she would feel the retreat of the Prince. Moreover, the clansmen were not likely to discriminate between her and other townsfolk, and I would save her from disturbance. So, jumping off the sorrel, and giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret.

”You've no need to trouble, Oliver,” she said. ”I've kept a room for you at the 'Angel.'”

”Thank you,” I replied. ”You are very kind, madam.”

”Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes open to look at me. Come along, sir!” She was merrily pulling at my arm as she spoke. ”I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you know, sir!”

”No, madam! Certainly not.”

”No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very last resource.”

”Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch.”

”We'll go together!” said Margaret, putting her arm in mine.

The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed.

I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman appeared, candle in hand.

”I knew you'd come, sir,” she said simply. ”And this is your lady! Come in!”