There was no doubt now that the Sergeant’s interest was fully aroused; the soldiers, at mention of the reward which was to be theirs, hung upon their Sergeant’s lips, hoping for the order to march on this very lucrative errand. "Hm!" muttered the latter, with a knowing wink, "perhaps that highwayman is a personal enemy of yours as well, sir!" "Aye!" sighed Captain Bathurst, pathetically, "the worst I ever had." "And you’d be mightily glad to see him hanged, an I mistake not. What?" "Zounds! but I wouldn’t say that exactly, Sergeant, but ... I have no love for him ... ’tis many an ill turn he has done me of late." "I understand! Then the reward?" "You shall have every penny of it, friend, and a hundred guineas for your men. What say you, gallant soldiers?" And he turned gaily to the little squad, who had stood at very close attention all this while. But there was no need to make this direct appeal. The men were only too ready to be up and doing, to earn the reward and leave John Stich and the very problematical rebel to look after themselves. "Now, quick’s the word," said the young man, briskly, "there’s not a moment to be lost." "At your service, Captain," replied the Sergeant, turning once more towards the inner door before which John Stich still held guard, "as soon as I’ve searched this forge..." "Nay, man, an you waste a minute, you and your men will miss Beau Brocade and the hundred guineas reward. Quick, man!" he added hurriedly, seeing that the soldier had paused irresolute, "quick! with your fellows straight up the road that leads northward. I’m on horseback—I’ll overtake you as soon as may be." "But..." "You’ll see a lonely cottage about half a mile from here, then a bridle path on the left; follow that, you’ll come to a house that was once an inn. The rascal is there. I saw him not half an hour ago." "But the rebel, Captain..." feebly protested the Sergeant, "my duty..." "Nay, Sergeant, as you will," said Bathurst, coolly, with a great show of complete indifference; "but while you parley here, Beau Brocade will slip through your fingers. He is at the house now: he may be gone by sunset. Odd’s life! search for your rebels! go on! waste time! and the hundred guineas are lost to you and your men for ever." It was obvious that both sergeant and men were determined not to lose this opportunity of a bold bid for fortune. "Done with you, sir," he said resolutely. "After all," he added, as a concession to his own sense of duty, "I can always come back and search the forge afterwards." All the soldiers seemed as one man to be uttering a sigh of relief and eager anticipation, and even before the Sergeant had spoken the word, they turned to go.