Rufus stepped stealthily out of the dusking garden into the lighted room, and moving noiselessly across the floor, laid his hand on Halfman's shoulder. Halfman did not look round. "Well, Sir Rufus," he asked, as calmly as if the sudden touch had been some recognized, awaited signal. "You are not to be taken by surprise, my good friend," Sir Rufus said. Halfman shrugged his shoulders. "It would need more than the clap of a man's paw on my back to take me by surprise; and, besides, I saw you coming. There is a mirror near, good Sir Rufus, and even in yonder owl-light I could pick you out of the mist. Moreover, I thought you would come." "Why did you think I would come?" Sir Rufus asked, with a frown. "Just because I thought it," Halfman answered, indifferently. "And, you see, my thoughts were true thoughts." Sir Rufus came closer to him, speaking in his ear. "I hope you hate all Roundheads," he said. "All damned rebels." Halfman's only answer was to whistle very softly the first few bars of a roaring Cavalier ballad. The grasp on Halfman's shoulder tightened. "There is one damned Roundhead here who vexes me," Sir Rufus said, fiercely. "I think his name is called Cloud," said Halfman. Sir Rufus swore a round oath. "I wish he were dead," he said. "If wishes were coaches," Halfman observed, sententiously, "beggars would ride." "He would have been dead ere this if she had not wheedled the King out of his wits. His Majesty is in a forgiving disposition to-day, and forgets his friends at the prayer of a pretty face. I wish this rebel were dead, friend." "He will die in time," Halfman commented, philosophically. Sir Rufus growled. "You are as dull as mud. It would be money in your pocket, friend Halfman, ay, money running over your pocket-holes, if this rebel were to be your quarry." Halfman shook his head, and a knowing smile twisted his mouth awry. "Nay, Sir Rufus, with your favor, you must do your own killing," he said. "Why, so I will," Rufus answered, angrily. "I will call up the household, lay hands on the rascal, back him to the wall, and bang a fusillade into him." Halfman laughed derisively. "Call up the household!" he crowed. "Do you think they would come at your call? Do you think they would serve you against my lady? Why, they would fling you into the fish-pools if she bade them do so." The face of Sir Rufus showed that through all his fury he still retained sufficient command of his reason to know that what Halfman said was more than true. Halfman went leisurely on: "You cannot employ your own men on the business, neither, for they must march to Oxford with the King. In little it comes to this: if you want a thing done, do it yourself." "You are in the right," Sir Rufus agreed, gloomily. "This fellow was doomed long since. It is no more than common justice to put him out of the way. But I ride with the King."