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If t'is is true, 'ow can t'ey 'ave miss Monmoot'? Send word to Milor' Churchill at once, Wentwort'. Let t'e matter be investigate' at once, Wentwort' at once!" The General was dancing with excitement. Wentworth saluted and turned to leave the room. "If you 'ave tole me true," continued Feversham, turning now to Richard, "you shall 'ave t'e price you ask, and t'e t'anks of t'e King's army.
Wentwort' must go to his regimen', and my ot'er officers are all occupi'. You comprehen' I 'ave not t'e time to spare you n'est-ce-pas?" Wentworth's hand touched Wilding on the shoulder. He was standing with head slightly bowed, his brows knit in thought. He looked round at the touch, sighed and smiled.
Belmont, a little wizened fellow who understood nothing of this topsy-turveydom, hastened forward, deposited his armful on the table, and selected a finely embroidered waistcoat, which he proceeded to hold for his master. Wriggling into it, Feversham rapped out his orders. "Captain Wentwort', you will go to your regimen at once. But first, ah wait. Take t'ose six men and Mistaire Wilding.
And he looked inquiringly at Blake. The baronet's jaw dropped; his face lost some of its high colour. He was stunned by the question as the bird is stunned that flies headlong against a pane of glass. He had crashed into an obstruction so transparent that he had not seen it. "So!" said Feversham, and he stroked the cleft of his chin. "Captain Wentwort', be so kind as to call t'e guard."
And in that moment a shot rang out in the night and startled the whole company. Feversham threw back his head; the signs of yielding left his face. "Ha!" he cried. "T'ey are arrive." He snatched his wig from his lacquey's hands, donned it, and turned again an instant to the mirror to adjust the great curls. "Quick, Wentwort'! T'ere is no more time now. Make Mistaire Wilding be shot at once.
"Silence!" blazed the Frenchman. "Now t'at I know who you are, t'at make a so great difference. Where is t'e guard, Wentwort'?" "I hear them," answered the captain, and from the street came the tramp of their marching feet. Feversham turned again to Blake. "T'e affaire 'as 'appen' so," he said, between question and assertion, summing up the situation as he understood it.
"My fren', I 'ave myself been to-night, at midnight, on t'e moore, and I 'ave 'eard t'e army of t'e Duc de Monmoot' marching to Bristol on t'e road what you call t'e road, Wentwort'?" "The Eastern Causeway, my lord," answered the captain. "Voil!" said Feversham, and spread his hands. "What you say now, eh?"
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