"Never mind, Colonel," he at length said resignedly. "We must let the birds go, and live in hopes of seeing them again. You know their roosting place, I suppose?" "I do, your Royal Highness." "So, well! When we've settled things with the sword, which we soon shall now, I may want you to pilot me thither. Meanwhile, _laszt es gehen_." At which the dialogue ended, unheard by all save Reginald Trevor. And he only overheard snatches of it; still enough to make him apprehensive about the fate of Vaga Powell. If he wanted her for himself it was not in the way Prince Rupert wanted her. CHAPTER FORTY. THE CADGERS ON THE KYMIN. "Laws, Jack! fear us be takin' back bad news to Sir Richard. An worse for the poor young lady at Glo'ster. Rob's tolt me her wor well-nigh deestract when her heerd he wor took pris'ner. What'll it be as her get to hear o' his bein' bad wounded too? Her knows nothin' o' that." "Maybe 'tant so much o' a wownd after all, nothin' for he to go dead on. Folks allays zagerates sich things. An' if he live it through, like 'nough 'twon't be very long fores they git un free o' his 'prisonment. I ha' an idea, Winny dear, the letter us ha' got be relatin' to that same. Else-wise why shid the Colonel Kyrle, who wor onct on the Parlamenteery side, an's now on t'other why shid him be writin' to Sir Richard, or Sir Richard to he? Beside, all this queery business us be a doin'. It seem to mean somethin' 'bout gittin' the young gen'lemen out o' gaol; maybe by changin' he for another. Don't ee think so?" "Like it do." She knew it meant that, and more. For Rob Wilde had given her a hint of why they had been sent to Monmouth market--ostensibly cadging on their own account, but in reality as messengers in the pay and employ of Sir Richard Walwyn. Though Jack was personally the bearer of the secret despatches, Winny was the one entrusted with the diplomacy, and knew more than she thought necessary to confide to him.