“And, gads my life, sir,” he went on with emphasis which made him purple in the face; “but I’ll warrant me I’ll have it out with Mistress Ann, and make her give up this Jem Bax, if she’s harboring him.” The squire smiled a little, just as Joan had done at the mention of Jem’s name. And Tregenna was confirmed in his belief that the young ruffian was a relation of Ann’s, and that she would put every possible obstacle in the way of his being given up. When General Hambledon and Tregenna came out of the house, where they had been shut up with the squire during the formal making out of the warrants, the lieutenant looked about in vain for Joan. Not only had she herself disappeared; but Parson Langney, who had been prominent, with his jolly face and jolly voice, among the red-coated groups on the lawn, trotting about on his nag, and as eager for the sport as anybody there, had taken his departure also. Tregenna pondered on this fact, which was the more strange, since not one other of the assembled guests was missing. But it was not until he and the general, and the score of mounted troopers who accompanied them, had traversed the village, forded the river, ridden the two miles to Rede Hall, and come in sight of that ancient dwelling, that the mystery was solved. From the gates of the farmhouse, just as the soldiers came into view, there issued Parson Langney on his nag, with his daughter Joan mounted on a pillion behind him. The brigadier saw no significance in this; the parson was doing his rounds, that was all. But to Tregenna the incident bore a very different meaning. He jumped to the conclusion that Joan had set off with her father to warn the inhabitants of Rede Hall of the visit which was in store for them; and, on the instant, he decided that he and the brigadier would be as unsuccessful on this occasion as they had been hitherto. In the mean time, General Hambledon had caught sight of a lonely inn a little way off the road, and directed his way thither, with the very proper excuse that in these places one could hear all the gossip and pick up valuable information. Tregenna ventured to make two suggestions—the one was that the sooner they got to the farmhouse the more likely they were to effect a capture; the other, that nobody about was likely to give information to them, since their uniform betrayed the sort of errand on which they had come. Of course he was overruled by the general; and, a few minutes later, they found themselves at the bar of the rickety little timber erection, with its battered sign creaking from a tree on the opposite side of the road. “’Tis a vastly pretty view you have from hence,” remarked the brigadier, in the course of making himself agreeable to the knot of drovers, laborers, and nondescript wanderers who stood within the inn doors, watching the soldiers. The landlord was the only person bold enough to answer the smart soldier— “Ay, sir; ’tis, as you say, a pretty view.”