"I must see Squire West about this business," muttered Sir Humphrey, whilst John stood silent, apparently intent on examining the pistols. "’Tis a scandal to the whole country, this constant highway robbery on Brassing Moor. The impudent rascal who attacked me was dressed like a prince, and rode a horse worth eighty guineas at the least. I suspect him to be the man they call Beau Brocade." "Did your Honour see him plainly?" asked John, somewhat anxiously. "See him?" laughed Sir Humphrey. "Does one ever see these rascals? Begad! he had stopped my coach, plundered me and had galloped off ere I could shout ’Damn you’ thrice. Just for one moment, though, one of my lanterns flashed upon the impudent thief. He was masked, of course, but I tell thee, honest friend, he had on a coat the Prince of Wales might envy; as for his horse, ’twas a thorough-bred I’d have given eighty guineas to possess." "And everyone knows your Honour is clever at a bargain," said John, with a suspicion of malice. "Humph!" grunted the Squire. "By Gad!" he added, with his usual jovial laugh, "the rogue does not belie his name—’Beau Brocade’ forsooth! Faith! he dresses like a lord, and cuts your purse with an air of gallantry, an he were doing you a favour." It was difficult to tell what went on in Sir Humphrey Challoner’s mind behind that handsome, somewhat florid face of his. The task was in any case quite beyond the powers of honest John Stich, though he would have given quite a good deal of his worldly wealth to know for certain whether his Honour’s journey across Brassing Moor and on to Aldwark had anything to do with that of Lady Patience along the same road. Nothing the Squire said, however, helped John towards making a guess in that direction. Just as Sir Humphrey, having left the pistols in the smith’s hands, turned to go back to his coach, he said quite casually,— "Whose was the coach that passed here about half an hour before mine?" "The coach, your Honour?" "Aye! when we reached the crest of the hill my man told me he could see a coach standing at the cross-roads, whose was it?" For one moment John hesitated. The situation was just a little too delicate for the worthy smith to handle. But he felt, as Sir Humphrey was going to Aldwark and therefore would surely meet Lady Patience, that lying would be worse than useless, and might even arouse unpleasant suspicions. "’Twas Lady Patience Gascoyne’s coach," he said at last. "Ah!" said the Squire, with the same obvious indifference. "Whither did she go?" "I was at work in my forge, your Honour, and her ladyship did not stop. I fancy she drove down Wirksworth way, but I did not see or hear for I was very busy." "Hm!" commented his Honour, whilst a shrewd and somewhat sarcastic smile played round the corners of his full lips.