There he found a group of peasants, held in check, in spite of much shouting and menacing gestures, by a small body of mounted troopers. Nearer the cottage were some unmounted men, those evidently who had been responsible for the attack upon the door, one or two of whom carried lanterns, and by the combined light this afforded, and that which streamed from the dismantled doorway, there was revealed to Captain Protheroe the incident which formed the central feature of the picture. At the doorway of the cottage two men were fighting. The swordsman with his back to the doorway was Sir Ralph. With white set face, and his breath coming in quick gasps, ’twas clear he was sore pressed, and wellnigh spent. His opponent, who was slowly but surely driving him to retreat into the passage-way, was a small, dapper little man, in the uniform of an officer of the King’s troops. He fought with a cool precision, and ever and anon as the fight proceeded, he exclaimed admiringly: "Well thrust, sir, well indeed. Keep back, men, let be. ’Tis a fair fight." For a few moments Captain Protheroe stood in amazement, watching this extraordinary scene, then suddenly realising that unless he quickly intervened Ralph must be overcome, he thrust his way past the startled troopers, and ere they could prevent him, seized the little officer round the middle and lifted him aside. The latter, with an exclamation of anger, wrenched himself free, and turned upon the intruder. "And by what right, sir——" he began furiously; but ere he could get further in his speech his hand was seized in a hearty grasp, and Captain Protheroe broke out eagerly: "Harrington! Will! You! By all the powers, but luck is with us wherever we go. This is splendid." "Miles Protheroe!" cried the little man in delight, but restraining himself suddenly, he stared hard at the captain. "What are you doing here, Protheroe?" he asked sharply. "D—— me, I had forgot, you are a rebel, too." But the other’s light laugh quickly reassured him. "No more a rebel than are these, my friends, here," he cried cheerily. "Look"—and he handed his passport to Harrington—"that is all right, isn’t it? By Jove! what a mercy I arrived in time; you were about to make a pretty mess of things, Will." "Plague take that meddlesome pedlar, who brought us out with such a cock-and-bull story as this," cried the little officer indignantly. "Here have I been forced to put your friends—and a lady, too—to most distressing inconvenience and—er—danger, and all to no purpose. Alas! I doubt she will never forgive me. Plague on the fellow! where is he?" But the pedlar, who had followed them to the cottage, and having given information had then served as guide to the patrol, was not to be found. He was quick to appreciate that the game again had gone against and had vanished into the night. "But what were you after when I arrived, Will?" asked Captain Protheroe with a laugh.