But like veritable quicksilver, Captain Bathurst was upon him in a moment. "A right o’ search!" he said excitedly. "A right o’ search, did you say, Sergeant? Odd’s my life, but I’m in luck! Sergeant, you’re the very man for me." And he pulled the Sergeant by the sleeve. "I pray you, sir..." protested the latter. But the young man was not to be denied. "Sergeant," he whispered significantly, "would you like to earn a hundred guineas?" "One hundred guineas," rejoined the soldier readily enough; "that I would, sir, if you’ll tell me how." He kept an eye on the little wooden door behind John Stich, but his ear leaned towards the stranger; the bait was a tempting one, a hundred guineas was something of a fortune to a soldier of King George II. "Listen then," said Bathurst, mysteriously. "You’ve heard of Beau Brocade, the highwayman, haven’t you?" "Aye, aye," nodded the Sergeant, "who hasn’t?" "Well then you know that there is a price of a hundred guineas for his capture, eh? ... Think of it, Sergeant! ... A hundred guineas! ... a little fortune, eh?" The Sergeant’s eyes twinkled at the thought. The soldiers too listened with eager interest, for the stranger was no longer talking in a whisper. A hundred guineas! three little words of wondrous magic, which had the power to rouse most men to excitement in those days of penury. Lady Patience’s whole soul seemed to have taken refuge in her eyes. Her body leaning forward, her lips parted with a quick-drawn breath, she gazed upon the stranger, wondering what he would do. That he was purposely diverting the Sergeant’s attention from his purpose she did not dare to think, that he was succeeding beyond her wildest hopes was not in doubt for a moment. And yet there did not seem much gained by averting the fearful catastrophe for the span of a few brief minutes. "Aye! a fortune indeed!" sighed the Sergeant, with obvious longing. "And I have sworn to lay that dare-devil highwayman by the heels," continued the young man. "I know where he lies hidden at this very moment, but, by Satan and all his crew, I cannot lay hands upon the rascal." "How so?" "The house is private! worse luck! _I_ have no right of search!" The Sergeant gave a knowing wink. "Hm!" he said. "I understand." Then he added significantly,— "But the reward?" "Odd’s life! you shall have the whole of that, Sergeant, and, if your men will help me, there shall be another hundred to divide between them. I have sworn to lay the rogue by the heels for my honour’s sake. Would you believe me, Sergeant, ’tis but a week ago that rascally highwayman robbed me in broad daylight! ... fifty guineas he took from me. Now I’ve a bet with Captain Borrowdale, five hundred guineas aside, that I’ll bring about the rogue’s capture."