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"I'd know the young cub in a thousand." Captain Twinely rose, tools the lamp from the hook where it hung, held it close to Neat's face, and looked at him. "I believe you're right," he said. "Now, young man, we know who you are; You're Neal Ward." He drew a paper from his pocket and looked it over.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" asked Captain Twinely. Neal made no answer. The sergeant peered closely at his face. "I think I know the man, sir. He's the young fellow that was with the women at the meetinghouse in the north. The man the old lord made us loose when we had him. What do you say, Tarn?" "You're right as hell," said the trooper who stood by Neal.
"Yes, sir, but if your orders are so particular I'd rather you'd be present yourself to see how much he can stand." "I'm not going to leave my bottle," said Captain Twinely, "to stand sentry over croppy carrion. Flog him till you lay his liver bare, sergeant, but don't cut it out of him." The sergeant saluted, and marched Neal out of the house.
He had ceased to distrust the Comtesse, but he was keenly suspicious of Maurice. Since he had been robbed of his clothes in Antrim he hated Maurice nearly as bitterly as he did Neal, and was determined to have him strictly watched. "Pardon me, dear lady," he said, "I must give some orders to the patrol." "Don't be long, then," she said, "I want you to-day, Captain Twinely. Come back to me."
He is Neal Ward, the man you've chased, the man you've been seeking day and night. There" she pointed further eastwards "there is the American brig which will bear him away from you. Do you understand?" Captain Twinely followed her gaze and her pointing finger. He began to understand. "And I did it. I fooled you. I blinded your eyes while my niece fed him in his hiding-place.
The Comtesse led the way, chatting to Captain Twinely, saying things more charmingly provocative than any which poor Twinely had ever heard from a woman's lips. Her eyes flashed on him, drooped before his gaze, sought his again with shy suggestiveness. She even succeeded, when his glance grew very bold, in blushing. They reached the little cove where Maurice's boat lay.
Captain Twinely, you will kindly give orders to your men that my son and his party are to be allowed to pass." Lord Dunseveric was left alone in the meeting-house save for the man who held the torch and the trooper who lay unconscious on the floor. "Give me the light," he said, "and go you over to your comrade. Loose his tunic and feel if his heart still beats."
A confidence, entailing the close proximity of this desirable lady, was an unlooked-for delight. "My dear niece is very young a mere child, you understand me, unformed, gauche, what you call shy. You will make excuse for her want of manner." The apology was necessary. In Una's face, if he had eyes for it at all, Captain Twinely might have seen something more than shyness.
He seems to be a captain of some sort, a yeomanry captain by the look of him. I'm hanged if it isn't our friend Twinely again. We'll take the liberty of borrowing his uniform for you. There'll be a poetic justice about that, and he'll sleep all the better for having these tight things off him." He knelt down and stripped Captain Twinely. "Now then, quick, Neal. Don't waste time.
The Comtesse struggled desperately, tearing with her hands at the trooper's face. Captain Twinely recognised the ladies almost immediately, and strove to reach them. Before he could make his way Lord Dun-severic's voice rang out above the tumult. "Maurice, are you there? Come in here at once."
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