"Red-haired men are as common as blackberries in these parts," said Mr. Bastable. "That won’t help us much. Why didn’t the fellow use his eyes to better purpose? I warrant, if a man shot me I’d know a little more about him. However, I’ll send Tony to Wickham Ferrers, and we’ll have some men out scouring the country. Unluckily ’tis getting dark." Mr. Bastable went to bed later than usual that night, in case the man should be caught and brought before him as a justice of the peace for committal. But the searchers had made no discovery, and the squire at last retired, going round the house with more than usual care to see that doors and windows were carefully bolted. Next morning they were seated at breakfast when Tony knocked at the door and came in with a face full of news. "Please, sir, there’s bin housebreaking now. Mother Philpot’s house were broke into last night, and the Mounseer carried off." "What! what!" shouted Mr. Bastable with a very red face, holding upright the knife and fork with which he was carving a fine piece of pickled pork. "’Tis true, sir. Mother Philpot were just gwine up along to roost, when there come a knock at the door. She opened, poor soul, and three men with faces black as sut pushed past. One caught her by the arm and told her to be mum and no harm would come o’t; t’others went into Mounseer’s chimmer and pulled un out as soon as they’d got his coat and things on, and took un away. He was all a-shaking, sir. Mother Philpot says, says she: ’A were a-trembling like an apsen, and so were I!’" "This is monstrous!" cried Mr. Bastable, pushing back his chair. "Alas! my compatriot is in danger yet still," said De Fronsac, carefully folding his napkin. "And the silks! I had set my heart on a plum-colored dress, Humfrey," said Mrs. Bastable. "Silks! Fiddlesticks! ’tis an outrage; ’tis contempt of court! ’tis—’tis—hang it! I don’t know what it isn’t. Tony, get my horse saddled. I’ll ride over to Wickham myself, and get the colonel to scour the country with dragoons, or we’ll send to Budmouth for those fellows of the German Legion, and see what they’re good for. We can’t allow this sort of thing in Luscombe, and by George! we won’t." The angry squire strode away, leaving his breakfast unfinished. "Your poor father will be so hungry, and so bad-tempered all day," said Mrs. Bastable, whom nothing seemed to ruffle. "Jack, will you carve the pork? You have not finished, Monsieur de Fronsac?" "Absolutely, Madame," said the Frenchman with a bow and a smile. "Dere is yet an hour before ve study; I vill valk to de village and back. De fresh air it is salubrious; and de fishermen interess me. My estates vere in Brittany; and in my days of youth I pass much time among fishermen. Ven I come back, ve vill study de properties of angles, Monsieur Arthur." And with a smile Monsieur de Fronsac left the room. *CHAPTER V* *A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION*