Janice staggered up, though somewhat languidly. "May-- "Did he ask to see me?" "Not he," she was told. "Come, lass, sit quiet for a bit till thy head is steady, and tell us what 't was all about." Janice sank into the chair her father set beside the fire. "He was on some mission for his Excellency," she gasped, "and stopped here to get a fresh horse--that was how I came to know it--and while we were talking we heard the dragoons coming, so he mounted, to escape. Then I heard a cry--oh! such a cry--and the pistols--and--and--that 's all I remember." "Why went he to the stable rather than to the house in the first case?" demanded her father. Janice looked surprised. "He knew the troopers were here," she explained. The squire was about to speak, when Clowes' hand on his shoulder checked him. "There's more here than we understand," the latter whispered. "Let me ask the questions." He came to the fire and said:-- "Why did he take this route, if he was bearing despatches?" The first sign of colour came creeping back into the pale cheeks of the girl, as she recalled the double motive the aide had given. "Colonel Brereton said he did not know the westerly roads, and so--" "Colonel Brereton!" rapped out her father. "And what was he doing hereabout? Plague take the scamp that he must be forever returning to worry us!" "How much of a force had he with him?" asked the commissary. "He was alone," replied Janice. "Alone!" exclaimed the baron, incredulously; then his face lost its look of surprise. "He came by stealth to see you, There was enough truth in the supposition to destroy the last visible signs of the girl's swoon, and she responded over-eagerly: "I told you he was on a mission for his Excellency, and but stopped here to get a fresh horse." "Ay," growled the squire, "he steals himself, then steals my crop, and now turns horse thief." "He was not stealing, dadda," denied Janice. "His own horse was tired, so he left her and said he'd return Joggles some time to-morrow evening." Clowes whistled softly, as he and the squire exchanged glances. Just as the former was about to resume his questioning, the sound of the front door being violently thrown open gave him pause, and the next instant Phil hurriedly entered the room. "The troopers at the stable say ye found Captain Boyde. Is he bad hurt?" he demanded. "To the death," spoke up the squire, for once missing the commissary's attempt to keep him silent. "Hast caught Brereton?" Janice had sprung to her feet and now stood listening, with a half-eager, half-frightened look. "Brereton!" cried Philemon. "Did he head the party?" The growing complexity was too much for the patience of the simple-minded owner of Greenwood. "May Belza have us all," he fumed, "if I can see the bottom or even the sides of this criss-cross business. Just tell us a straight tale, lad, if we are not to have the jingle brains."