"Ah well!" said Sir Humphrey with affected indifference, "’tis really not much to me. On the whole perhaps I would prefer to deliver the rascal into the hands of my friend Squire West at Brassington. Anyway, I have the night to think the matter over; ’tis too late now to wait for that lout, John Stich. I would have preferred to have had your advice, sir. I daresay ’tis difficult to give. And you a stranger too. I would have liked to save a young girl from the clutches of that old witch, Lady Rounce, and if Beau Brocade rendered me that service, I’d be tempted to hold my tongue about him.... He should have the hundred guineas to-morrow and have nought to fear from me, if he brought me those letters. If not ... well! ... well! ... we shall see.... The old gallows here have long been idle ... we shall see ... we shall see.... Good-day to you, sir ... proud to have met you.... No ... I’ll not wait for John Stich. Is this your horse? ... pretty creature! ... Good-day, sir ... good-day." His Honour was extremely condescending and pleasant. He bowed very politely to Bathurst, patted the beautiful chestnut horse, and showed no further desire to talk with John Stich. Bathurst, with a frown on his handsome face, watched the Squire of Hartington’s burly figure disappear round the bend in the road. "I wonder now," he mused, "what mischief he’s brewing. He seemed to me up to no good. I suppose he guessed who I was." While he stood there watching, John Stich quickly entered the forge from the rear. "I was in the cottage, Captain," he said, "my mother was serving the ladies with some milk. But just now I saw Sir Humphrey Challoner walking away from the forge. I feared he might see you." "He did see me, honest friend," said Jack, lightly. "His Honour and I have just had a long and animated conversation together." "Great Heavens! the man is furious with you, Captain!" said the smith, with genuine anxiety in his gruff voice, "he saw you distinctly on the Heath last night. He may have recognised you to-day." "He did recognise me." "And may be brewing the devil’s own mischief against you." "Oh, ho!" laughed the young man, with a careless shrug of the shoulders, "against me? ... Well! you know, honest John, I am bound to end on the gallows..." "Sooner or later! Sooner or later!" he added merrily, noting John’s look of sorrowful alarm. "They’ve not got me yet, though there are so many soldiers about, as that piece of underdone roast-beef said just now." "You’ll not tell me what Sir Humphrey Challoner spoke to you about?"