"I humbly beg of you," he said finally, as having kissed her finger-tips he prepared to go, "to wait here against my return, and on no account to take heed of anything you may see or hear for the next half-hour. An I mistake not," he added with a merry twinkle in his grey eyes, "there’ll be strange doings at Brassington this noon." "But you...?" she cried anxiously. "Nay! I pray you have no fear for me. In your sweet cause I would challenge the world, and, if you desired it, would remained unscathed." When he had gone, she sighed, and obedient to his wish, sat waiting patiently for his return in the dingy little parlour which awhile ago his presence had made so bright. It was at this moment that Master Mittachip, after his interview with the beadle, was in close conversation with Sir Humphrey Challoner at the Royal George. Outside the inn, Bathurst turned to John Stich, who had closely followed him. "How’s my Jack o’ Lantern?" he asked quickly. "As fresh as a daisy, Captain," replied the smith. "I’ve rubbed him down myself, and he has had a lovely feed." "That’s good. You have my saddle with you?" "Oh, aye! I knew you’d want it soon enough. Jack o’ Lantern carried it for you himself, bless ’is ’eart, along with her ladyship and Mistress Betty." "Then do you see at once to his being saddled, friend, and bring him along to the Court House as soon as may be. Hold him in readiness for me, so that I may mount at a second’s notice. You understand?" "Yes, Captain. I understand that you are running your head into a d——d noose, and..." "Easy, easy, friend! Remember..." "Nay! I’ll not forget for whose sake you do it. But you are at a disadvantage, Captain, with only one good arm." "Nay, friend," rejoined Bathurst, lightly, "there’s many a thing a man can do with one arm: he can embrace his mistress ... or shoot his enemy." The sleepy little village of Brassington lay silent and deserted in the warmth of the noon-day sun, as Bathurst, having parted from John Stich, hurried across its narrow streets. As he had passed quickly through the outer passage of the Packhorse he had caught sight of a few red coats at the dingy bar of the inn, and presently, when he emerged on the green, he perceived another lot of them over at the Royal George yonder. But at this hour the worthy soldiers of His Majesty, King George, were having their midday rest and their customary glasses of ale, and were far too busy recounting their adventure with the mysterious stranger at the forge to the gaffers of Brassington, to take heed of anyone hurrying along its street. And thus Bathurst passed quickly and unperceived; the one or two yokels whom he met gave him a rapid glance. Only the women turned round, as he went along, to have another look at the handsome stranger with one arm in a sling. Outside the Court House he came face to face with Master Inch, whose pompous dignity seemed at this moment to be severely ruffled.