“This is what the stranger said, eh?” remarked Captain Jack, picking his teeth, and looking much pleased. “Yes, that is what he said, every word of it.” “Are you sure?” “Oh yes, for the landlord wrote it down as he spoke. I have just delivered it to Sir Richard Warbeck, in London here, that he may inquire into the mysterious affair at once.” “But did not the stranger make any other remarks before he died?” “He did.” “What were they?” “He said that he could swear that one of the two men was none other than Mad Andrew in disguise.” “Poor devil!” “And the other one,” observed Bates, “had he any idea who he was?” “He said he thought it must have been Captain Jack himself, in disguise.” “Thunder and lightning! you don’t mean that?” “I do, though; he signed his name as best he could to the dying deposition.”. “Oh! it couldn’t have been Captain Jack,” said Bates; “I’ll swear to that.” “And so will I,” said Captain Jack; “the thing was impossible.” “Quite so,” said Bates; “’tis a very serious charge to make against an innocent man.” “So it is, gentlemen; but then, you see, the character of Captain Jack isn’t very good at the best of times, so I hear, and the dead man’s oath will be taken before that of any one else.” “Devilish queer affair,” said Jack, “Yes, somebody must swing for it,” said the post-boy. “I wouldn’t like to be in Captain Jack’s shoes for all the money in the kingdom.” “Perhaps you don’t know the captain, my lad,” said Jack, “or you’d have a different opinion; he is—” “One of the best men in all London,” said Bates, tossing off his wine. “Honest as the day is long,” said Jack. “People are mistaken about him. As to murdering an innocent man in the woods, and robbing him, too,” said Bates, “why, bless you, it is out of the question.” “From what you say about him,” said the post-boy, “one would think he wasn’t a rascal at all.” “Nor is he,” said Jack, fiercely; “I’ll stake my life on it.” “And so will I,” said Bates, drinking deeply. “Perhaps you know him, then, gentlemen?” “No, not exactly; but I’ve seen him, and actually been in his company once or twice,” said Jack. “So have I,” chimed in Bates, “he can sing a capital song.” “And dance a jig.” “And handle a sword.” “Aye! that he can, and fight for an hour with the best gentleman in all England,” said Bates, in conclusion. “And was the dying man’s deposition the only reason that made you hurry up to town at such a terrible pace?” “Not exactly, gentlemen; something more.” “What then?” “When the dead man’s things were searched, we found papers, cards, and documents in his pockets, all bearing the name of Colonel Blood, and the supposition was, that _he_ was that individual.” “And was it?” “We haven’t found out yet, for when I rode up to his mansion, I found the place in great confusion, and the colonel was out of town, so it was supposed.” “I heard he had gone to Darlington,” said Bates.