Rob, setting his ears to listen, could tell there were two of them, but nothing more--nothing to admonish him whether they were friends or enemies. But with the consciousness of having stolen deer and broken jail, twenty to one on their being the latter, reflected he. In any case prudence counselled him hiding himself, and letting the horsemen pass on. His first impulse was to spring back up the bank, leaving the woman in the road. They could have nothing against her, whoever they were. But they were near now, still riding rapidly, and before he could scramble to the summit of the slope would be sure to see him. Just then, a hiding-place handier, and more easily accessible, came under his eye; a break in the bank just opposite, which he knew to be the entrance to an old limestone quarry, long abandoned. He would be safe enough in there, at least from observation by any one passing down the road. Whether or no, it was now Hobson's choice with him; the trampling was louder and clearer; and but for an abrupt bend of the road above he could have seen the horsemen, as they him. No alternative, therefore, but to cut into the quarry; which he did--the woman with him. Scarce were they well inside it, when the hoof-strokes ceased to be heard. The horses had been suddenly pulled up; a colloquy ensuing. "Hullo, Jerky!" it begun. "On your way from Monmouth market, I suppose?" "Yes, yer honour; jist that." "But where's your big sister? I've met you scores of times along the roads, though never without her. I hope there's nothing amiss?" "Oh! nothin', sir. She be wi' me now, close by, coming up the pitch, only ha' legged a bit behint." "Well, Jack, I won't detain you; as I must not be lagging myself. I want to reach Ross before the night's on. Good-bye, old cadge!" At which the dialogue came to an end, and the hoof-strokes were again heard, now coming close. Only for a minute or so, when a second colloquy was entered upon, this time one of the voices being different. Rob Wilde knew them both; had long ago recognised the one that held speech with the cadger, and had reason to feel keenly apprehensive as he listened. Far more now, as the words of the later dialogue dropped upon his ears. "Old Timber-toes said his sister was just behind. I don't see anything of her; and certainly she's not one there should be any difficulty in making out--even at a league's distance. Hey! what the deuce is that?" And Reginald Trevor again reined up. For it was he, with his servant. "A basket, it appears to be, Captain," answered the man, "with a bottle in it. Yes," he added, after drawing closer, lifting it from the ledge, and peering into it. "Something besides the bottle--bread, cheese, and bacon."