“He hid them in his buff coat and lay down to sleep by the market-house. I well-nigh took the packet from him, but a cur barked and he roused up, gripped me by the arm and called the guard.” “Idiot! I might have known that you would bungle the business. How was it you did not get him disabled in the skirmish instead of being knocked on the head yourself?” “I adjured Prince Rupert’s men to fire on him,” said Waghorn, with solemn vindictiveness, “and the ball of the avenger entered into his arm; but he still galloped on, clinging to the neck of his steed. Then one of the ungodly clouted me on the head and I saw him no more.” His slow speech, and the failure of the enterprise irritated Norton past endurance. Seizing him by the coat-collar, he gave him a sound shaking. “You prating, pig-headed, sour-faced lunatic! I wish I had managed the matter myself. Did you not ask which way he rode? Was there no pursuit by the Prince’s troopers?” Waghorn groaned. “Mercy! Mercy! Oh, my head! My head! Remember I’ve a sore head.” “You’ve no head at all, you gaping fool, or you wouldn’t have made such a cursed mess of this matter. Did you not ask, I say? Could no man give you news of him?” Freeing himself and groaning as he adjusted his bandages, the wood-carver replied, sullenly, “I have news of him. When you will leave me time to speak, I will tell you all.” “Speak then,” said Norton, impatiently. “I am a righteous avenger,” said Waghorn, with an air of offended dignity, “and, though thrice baulked, I will yet lay hands on the ungodly man that dallies with malignants, and doth not destroy graven images. ‘Let his days be few, and let another take his office!’” “Go to! You are not preaching on a tub, you fool, but speaking to a King’s officer,” said Norton, with an angry frown. Waghorn continued deliberately. “When I could think of aught but my clouted head, I sought to pursue Captain Harford, asking from one and another if they had seen a wounded Parliament officer on a bay horse. At length I fell in with some troopers who vowed they had pursued him in this direction, but had lost all trace of him and were returning to Prince Rupert.” “They had seen him this way?” said Norton, musingly. Waghorn turned his piercing eyes on Hilary and looked at her fixedly. She tried bravely to keep an unmoved face. “Doubtless he had his reasons for riding towards Bosbury,” said the spy, with scornful emphasis. “A good notion,” cried Norton. “After all, you have a head on your shoulders, Waghorn. Methinks the lady’s face hath an anxious look.” “Sir,” said Hilary, drawing herself up, “no maiden could listen to such words as you have forced me to hear to-day without showing some sign of anxiety.” Waghorn watched her with the eyes of a hawk, and his solemn voice broke the brief silence which had fallen upon them. “I adjure you, Mistress, by all you hold most sacred, to speak the truth. Have you seen Captain Gabriel Harford?”