"I had one hope left, and it was a desperate one. "I roused myself slowly, and with many feints, from my mock slumber, and rubbed my eyes and yawned, and stared first at one, then the other. "`Get up,' again cried the men, still pulling my arm roughly, `and say what you're doing here.' "`Doing here?' I drawled as unconcernedly as I could, stretching myself at the same time, `That's a pretty question to ask me. What were _you_ doing not to be here at eight o'clock, I'd like to know?' "The men let go my arms, and looked at me in bewilderment. "`Why,' said one, `are you--' "`There,' said I, `we don't mention names in our trade. You'll learn that when you grow older, and you'll learn to be punctual too,' I added, testily. "The men looked half abashed. "`We were here at eight,' they said. "`No, you were not. I was here at eight to the minute, and I had time to fall asleep, as you see, before you came. But never mind that. You know what business is on foot, I suppose?' "`Yes, I had it all from--' "`Hush! no names, you dolt; what did I tell you before?' "The men were perfectly sheepish now, and I began to breathe again. It was well I had been described in the letter as a `queer dog,' for it is an easy part to act, even to save one's own life. Besides, this would account sufficiently well for my unbusinesslike attire. "My great fear was lest the real person referred to in the letter should arrive on the scene before I had quitted it. I therefore ordered an immediate departure. "`We've lost an hour already with your dilatoriness,' I growled; `don't let us lose any more. As it is, it is a chance if we reach Culverton before morning. Come, lead out my horse, and bring what food you have with you, for I'm starving.' "Before five minutes had passed we were safe out of the cottage and in the high-road--I, mounted on my faithful and partly refreshed horse, eating ravenously of the scraps of bread and meat my companions had left, while they trudged along in the snow one on either side. "In this manner we progressed for an hour or so in silence, until about one o'clock there appeared on the side of a distant hill a twinkling light. I knew it at once. It had guided me home often and often before now, and it was doing so again. But in what strange company! "`That's Culverton, on the hill there,' said I. "The men, who were nearly dead beat with their tramp through the deep snow, said nothing, but plodded on doggedly. It was nearly an hour more before we reached the outskirts of the estate, and by this time so exhausted were they that when I cried a halt they fairly sat down in the snow. "I was strongly tempted to leave them there; but a desire to bring them to condign punishment prevented me. They were armed, and I was not. Besides, the reference in the letter to my father's steward made me anxious to sift the matter to the bottom. "`Come, come,' said I, `at that rate you'll never see the strong box. Get up, men!'