“Never mind; if we can only once get into the apartment, we shan’t have much difficulty in getting clear off with the girl,” said Bates; “the colonel is not supposed to know that you or I have any hand in this affair. If what you say proves true, Jack, we can easily put the colonel out of the way, and we shall be all right again. What do you say? Shall we try it to-night?” “I’m willing. I’m dying to have revenge on the deceitful rascal.” “Then to-night let it be. Come with me; the Dozen are assembled in a quiet place, waiting for me. I will settle with the old landlord.” “And so will I,” thought Captain Jack to himself, “and sooner than he expects.” “We will have to wear masks,” said Bates. “Yes, and keep dead silence.” “If we meet with any opposition, you know—?” “Oh, as to that,” said Jack, “we won’t stand nice on trifles. It’s a case of life or death with me.” So speaking, Bates and Captain Jack strolled towards the “quiet place” spoken of, and in less than half an hour Jack, half-drunk, rolled in among the “Dozen,” who were already assembled. They looked daggers at him, and would, perhaps, have resorted to violence, but Bates whispered something to them which cooled their anger. Captain Jack reeled into a chair, and was soon fast asleep and snoring. “Keep an eye on him, my men,” said Bates, in a whisper; “I am going out on very important business, which I will explain on my return. Jack’s all right. Don’t have any rows or quarrels with him; let him have all the drink he wants, but don’t let him go out on any account.” So speaking, Tom Bates buttoned up his coat, looked to his sword and pistols, and vent forth alone into the darkness and blinding storm of sleet and rain. CHAPTER XXXIX. COLONEL BLOOD MEETS A TARTAR—THE RELEASE OF ELLEN HARMER—THE MURDER IN THE WOOD. Tom Bates had not gone very far from the rendezvous of the Dozen, and was trudging along through the wind and rain, forming plans for that night’s operations, when some one in a dark street laid his hand roughly on his shoulder. Tom stopped as if by instinct. “That you, colonel?” he asked. “That you, Bates?” “Yes, sir.” “Come this way out of the rain,” said he. And he led the way up a dark, narrow alley, which was lighted by a single lamp. “Well, and what news, Bates? Have you secured that reprobate Captain Jack yet?” “No, colonel; it is a more difficult matter than might be supposed.” “Where is he, then? “I know not, colonel, but imagine that now we are after him he is hiding away in some of the back slums in or around London.” “But how could he have got any information about my wishes or intentions?” “That I know not, sir; but certain it is that we have been seeking for him both high and low in every hole and quarter; but I fear me he has left London.” “Left London, and for what, pray?”