The box was shut, and in the act of opening it Jonas Skag grew suddenly still, glaring down at the thing he held, speechless, motionless, scarce breathing, as if indeed it had possessed some deadly power to blast him as he sat; then he seemed to shrink in his clothes, his writhing lips opened, closed again speechlessly, and slipping from his twitching fingers the battered horn snuff-box rolled upon the tiled floor; even then he stared down at it where it lay, until moving slowly like an old man, he leaned down, shaking hand outstretched. But with an airy motion of his riding-whip, Sir John flicked it from his reach and picking it up slipped it back into his pocket. With the same unnatural slowness Jonas Skag rose to his feet, and leaning across the table stood glaring at that pocket of Sir John’s waistcoat which held that dreadful thing; and after some interval, he spoke in broken whisper: “Gimme ... gimme——” Sir John, leaning back against the wall, stared up into the twitching face, while slowly, slowly, the wide, bloodshot eyes crept up and up until they were glaring into his; thus for a long moment eyes met eyes, and it seemed that Jonas Skag was halting between two courses, groping meanwhile in his darkened soul and questioning passionately with his look. At last, uttering a hoarse, inarticulate sound, he turned, lurched to the door, opened it, leaned there a moment, and was gone. Then Sir John arose and, leaving his ale untasted, went seeking the landlord. “Mr. Levitt,” said he, “I remember meeting yonder red-haired fellow aboard the _True Believer_. Is he one of Captain Sharkie’s regular men?” “Not by no manner o’ means, sir!” answered Mr. Levitt. “A drunken, quarrelsome, naun-account chap be Jonas. Las’ toime Sharkie ’apped along—ah, a-settin’ in that very cheer, ‘Levitt,’ says ’e, ‘I’m done wi’ that Jonas for good an’ arl!’ ’e says.” “And you, like Captain Sharkie, do not trust him?” “Not so fur as I can see ’im, sir.... Why, here be Corporal Doubleday! How goes it, sir, an’ what’ll we make it?” At a nod from Sir John, the Corporal, having “made it” ale, and finished it with commendable speed, Sir John presently arose and, taking hearty leave of Mr. Levitt, stepped into the yard and mounted. “Well, Bob?” he inquired as they rode. “Our Sturton made hither as usual?” “He did, sir, but——” “Was met by the red-headed man, Bob.” “Pre-cisely, sir. Which man seemed in mighty per-tub-ation about somewhat or other, whereupon Sturton takes him into the Bull yonder. And soon arter, sir, out they came from the yard and both of ’em mounted, and away at a gallop. Which seems strange.” “Hum!” exclaimed Sir John. “Did they ride towards Alfriston?” “Aye, your honour.” “About how long ago?” “Eggs-ackly eighteen and a half minutes, sir.” “You did not follow ’em?” “Your honour’s orders were to call for you at——” “Aye, very true, Bob!... Eighteen minutes!”