With my resolution formed, I roused myself for action. I knew that for the execution of my project I had time to spare, for I was well assured, however urgent were his orders to advance, the colonel would not yet release his guest. Accordingly, unnoticed by any one within, I passed across the yard and gained the village street, threading my way between groups of men and horses, until I stumbled at length upon the man I sought, the one-eyed sergeant of my troop, and to him I gave instructions to secure my horse and to choose a dozen men on whom he could rely, and with these, upon the regiment’s departure, to take possession of the inn and to await my further orders. He saluted in return, and I watched his burly figure go clanking down the street. Then satisfied that I had at least one tried and cunning soldier to uphold me, I continued on my way. When I had left the village behind me and had reached the woods, I turned sharply to the right, and at a distance of some two hundred yards from the road I came to the entrance of the little path. As I stepped into the cool shadow of the trees, I paused irresolutely, as a sudden thought struck me. What if it was not my lady he had come to meet, but Mistress Grace! I had seen enough with my own eyes to convince me that there was a warmer feeling existing between them than mere cousinly affection. Was all my cunning scheme to end in witnessing a lover’s meeting? Almost I had persuaded myself that this was indeed the case, and I was strongly tempted to retrace my steps. But the memory of the dark, mysterious vessel I had seen deterred me from my purpose, and again I set my face resolutely towards the house, and at the next turning in the path I came upon something by which my ardour was considerably stimulated, for fluttering from a thorn bush beside the track was a shred of scarlet cloth. I took this tell-tale witness in my hand and closely examined it. It was of the same material as the coat I wore, and had been but recently torn from its wearer, for now that I gazed about me, my suspicions roused, in a patch of moist turf at my feet I saw the fresh print of a man’s spurred heel. I gazed eagerly ahead; but the pathway so wound and twisted that I could not see a dozen feet before me--only the hot sun slanted through the leaves above and fell upon the thickets of brier, and bush and bracken that walled me in on either side with a hedge of emerald green. I listened, but no sound reached my ear save the hum of insect life around me and the sough of the wind in the whispering trees. Yet who was the man who had recently passed along this path? And why should a trooper be wandering in the woods? The more I thought of this, the more it puzzled me. I could hazard no conjecture as to the man’s identity, still less as to his purpose. Only, with a growing uneasiness, I loosened my sword in its sheath and advanced more cautiously, searching the bushes on either side.