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Hogan stared at the lad's flushed face with a look of whimsical astonishment, and for a brief spell there was silence between them. Slowly then, with his eyes still fixed upon Kenneth's, the captain unsheathed a dagger. The boy drew back, with a sudden cry of alarm. Hogan vented a horse-laugh, and ran the blade under the seal of Ashburn's letter.
It's as much, as I shall be able to do to get you enough to eat and wear this year." Mr. Ashburn's manner was decided, and his voice had a repelling tone. Margaret and Phoebe could say no more; but they did not leave their father's presence without giving his eyes the benefit of seeing a free gush of tears. It would be doing injustice to Mr.
'Do you mean, said Caffyn to Holroyd, with an angry sneer, 'that I told a lie that you did not write "Illusion"? 'That was not the lie, returned Vincent. 'I did write "Illusion." It is untrue that Mr. Ashburn's conduct in the matter does him anything but credit. May I tell my story here, Mrs. Featherstone?
Twice Crispin read the letter through. Then with set teeth and straining eyes he sat lost in thought. Here indeed was a strange chance! This boy whom he had met at Perth, and enrolled in his company, was a friend of Ashburn's the lover of Cynthia. Who might this Cynthia be?
The ghost of an evil smile played round Joseph Ashburn's lips as he watched them. So soon as Sir Crispin had taken his departure, and whilst yet the beat of his horse's hoofs was to be distinguished above the driving storm of rain and wind without, Joseph hastened across the hall to the servants' quarters.
They drew off his boots, and well-nigh stripped him naked, submitting each article of his apparel to a careful examination. At length it was over, and Hogan held Ashburn's package, turning it over in his hands with a thoughtful expression. "Surely, sir, you will now allow me to proceed," cried Kenneth.
Ashburn's scrutiny was explained. "The same, sir," he answered, with a smile and a fresh bow. "Your servant, sir; and yours, madam." Cynthia looked with interest at the lank, soldierly figure. She, too, had heard as who had not? wild stories of this man's achievements.
Do you remember I told you how, when I swooned beneath the stroke of Joseph Ashburn's sword, the last words I heard were those in which he bade his brother slit the throat of the babe in the cradle?
At last the Irishman produced Ashburn's letter to Colonel Pride. "My men," said he, "are patrolling the roads in wait for a malignant that has incurred the Parliament's displeasure. We have news that he is making for Harwich, where a vessel lies waiting to carry him to France, and we expect that he will ride this way.
"People rushed in and would have stopped us, but I cursed them so whilst I fenced, swearing to kill any man that came between us, that they held off and waited. I didn't keep them overlong. I was no raw youngster fresh from the hills of Scotland. I put the point of my sword through Joseph Ashburn's throat within a minute of our engaging.
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