“O loved maid!” he murmured. “Sweet Flower o’ Life, thou and I are alone here with the God that made us and yon everlasting hills.... Could thine eyes speak me aught but truth? Are these the eyes of Rose or the Lady Herminia?” “Of ... Rose!” she whispered. And so he kissed her, her eyes, her hair, her lips, until at last: “O John,” she murmured, “art thou John Derwent or ... the ‘Wicked Dering’? For indeed ... Aunt Lucinda said but three, sir!” CHAPTER XXXVI WHICH CONTAINS FURTHER MENTION OF A CERTAIN SNUFF-BOX “To-day, Bob, is Thursday, I think?” “It is, sir.” “And your researches teach us that, upon every Thursday, Sturton rides over to Seaford, generally in the evening?” “Aye, your honour, to a small tavern called ‘The Anchor.’” “And there meets a red-headed, seafaring man to whom he pays money.” “Pre-cisely, sir.” “The sailor-man’s name being Skag—Jonas Skag.” “The same, your honour.” “Why, then, Bob, see the horses saddled; we will go a-riding.” “To Seaford, sir?” “To Seaford, Bob.” Thus they were presently ambling down Alfriston’s ancient street, between neat and homely cottages from whose doors heads nodded in cheery greeting, past flowery gardens, by fragrant rickyard, where they had brief vision of Mr. Muddle virtuously busied with a pitchfork despite his limp, and so to the winding, tree-shaded road that led uphill and down towards the purple slopes of Windover. “Sturton hath kept ye fairly busy o’ late, Bob.” “His movements, sir, has been constant.” “Indeed, Bob, since we gave up the harassing tactics for a more subtle method, your days ha’ been fully occupied. Yet I trust you ha’ found time to keep a friendly eye upon our Ancient Dumbrell?” “I have, sir.” “Good! And how is——” “She is very well, your honour, and ... as young as ever!” “Hum!” quoth Sir John, and they rode awhile in silence. Corporal Robert made to drop behind, but his master stayed him with a gesture. “Regarding Mrs. Rose, Bob, she often visits the Dumbrells, I think?” “When not wi’ Dame Haryott, sir, or slave-driving Willum Thompson.... A on-common dirty soldier he’d ha’ made, sir!” “You see her—Mrs. Rose—frequently, then?” “I do, sir.” “And do you still think her ... ‘leggy’ was the term, I fancy?” “Aye, sir, but I beg to withdraw ‘leggy’ as not being in order, Mrs. Rose not being ex-actly what she seems.” “Explain, Bob.” “Well, sir, her speech don’t always match her country clothes, and sometimes she’s that haughty!” “Aye, I’ve noticed the same, myself.” “Yes, your honour.” “What d’ye mean by ‘yes,’ Bob?” “I mean, sir, as ’tis nowise sup-rising you should notice, seeing as I’ve noticed as your honour notices—I mean that she notices—that she an’ your honour seem to take a powerful sight o’ notice of each other, sir.” “Aye, we do, Bob.” “No offence, your honour?” “None in the world, Bob.” “But, y’ see, sir, there’s others has noticed and a-noticing same—daily, your honour.” “Who, Robert?”