Ten o’clock was striking, and the old Cross, deserted and solitary, looked down upon a silent village; and Sir John Dering, leaning out from his open lattice, looked down upon the old Cross. Alfriston slept, and had done so for an hour or more apparently, like the highly decorous community it was; not a footfall disturbed its chaste silence, not a light glimmered anywhere. A mournful wind moaned in fitful gusts, the signboard of ‘The Star,’ farther down the street, creaked dismally, but, save for this, all was brooding peace and reposeful silence. But presently Sir John’s quick ear distinguished a sound not of the wind, though like the wind fitful—a faint throb of galloping hoofs, now lost, now heard again, growing ever louder; on they came, nearer and nearer, until the dark street rang and echoed, but never a door opened, never a light blinked, not even when they slowed to a trot, to an amble, to a walk, and finally stopped outside the inn of the ‘Market Cross’; Alfriston slept on serenely persistent. The moon, though obscured by a flying scud, yet gave sufficient light to disclose the shape of horse and rider looming gigantic in the dimness. Ensued the creak of saddle and stamp of heavy foot as the horseman alighted, and thereafter a knocking soft but imperative. “Bunkle!” quoth a voice—“Peter Bunkle! Are ye there, Peter man?” From somewhere adjacent Mr. Bunkle answered, his voice sounding remarkably wide awake: “Be that y’rself, sir?” “Aye. Are the lads by, yet?” “Not yet, sir. But I doan’t expect ’em for another ’arf-hour. Be aught wrong, sir?” “Soldiers.” “Wheer away?” “Lyin’ ambushed over by Exeat, an’ there’s more of ’em ’twixt here and Frogfirle. I tell ye the country’s thick with ’em.... I was stopped twice.... There’ll be bloody murder ere dawn, Peter man!” “Why, sir, Jarge Potter knows, an’ Jarge aren’t nowise to be caught nappin’ nohow. ’E’ll send the lads cross-country wi’ the stuff, I rackon, an’ lead they so’jers a foine dance.... Bide a moment an’ I’ll let ye in.” Here, after brief delay, the sound of opening door, a heavy tread, a squeak of bolts and silence again, except for moaning wind and the snort of the horse below.