"'I'm grieved to the heart,' says he, 'but I must postpone that pleasure till another day. Perhaps we shall meet again. I hope to return in a few weeks--not alone next time.' "'Quite so,' thinks I, 'at the head of the Army of England. No you don't, my fine fellow, not if I can keep you messing about there a few minutes longer.' "'And perhaps we have met before,' says I, taking off my hat. "He peered at me in the moonlight. "'What!' he cries--'not my old friend, Black Cock, again?' "'The same at your service,' says I, 'still waiting to have his comb cut.' "'This is a great happiness,' says he, very earnest, and paddles in a bit. "'It's mutual,' says I. 'And if you've quite done posing won't you step ashore and let us consummate our joy? A sweet stretch of sand, and a lovely light.' "Pon my soul for a moment I thought he would. Then, "'I can't to-day, bad cess to it,' says he. 'Tell you the truth I'm in the devil's own hurry. Got an interview with his Sacred Majesty, our noble Emperor, whom may Heaven preserve, at twelve noon to-morrow. And if I don't keep it, I stand to lose a lot o little things--my head among em. I'm in disgrace, you see--always have been from a child!' "He lifts his sword to his lips, quite the play-actor. "'But here's to our next merry meeting, sir.' "'And may it be soon, Monsieur le Poseur,' says I, answering his salute. "And it's proved sooner than either of us expected. There's he: here'm I. One side this wall the first light cavalryman in Europe, 'tother-- Harry Joy, ex-Captain of British infantry. Now we've got to see which is the better man." He squared his shoulders. Whoever else might find the situation unsatisfactory it was not Parson Joy. CHAPTER XLVII THE DESPATCH-BAG I "That is the first part of the story, and the least," said the Parson. "And while I'm telling you the rest you'd better have some grub." He reached up to a rafter. "I keep the tackle up here out of Blob's way. The boy's all belly-- ain't you, you young shark?" Blob stroked his waist feelingly. "She kips on a-talkin," he purred. "She dawn't get much answer though." "Well, don't eat that candle anyway, you little glutton!" "Oi warn't eatin it," said Blob, aggrieved. "Oi were suckin it." The Parson arranged what food there was on the floor. '"Honour and salt-beef--campaigners' fare!' as Nelson used to say in Corsica.... "And while you're at that, I'll get on with my story." II He went to the gable-end and took down a tarpaulin bag hanging on a staple. "Kit, that was a great haul you made." He took a packet from the bag. "What d'you think this contains?" stripping the india-rubber from it. There crept into his eyes again that steely look. "It contains," he continued in the still voice of the man so moved that he dare hardly trust himself, "a list of all those gentlemen of Kent and Sussex who are _à nous_, as the paper says." The boy dropped his knife. "Traitors in fact!"