O'Toole nodded approval.

"There are two things," said he, "a man never trusts to his friends.
One's his horse; t' other's his wife."

Wogan suddenly stopped and looked at O'Toole. O'Toole answered the look
loftily.

"It is a little maxim of philosophy. I have others. They come to me in
the night."

Misset laughed. Wogan walked on to the stable. It was a long building,
and a light was still burning. Moreover, a groom was awake, for the door
was opened before they had come near enough to knock. There were twelve
stalls, of which nine were occupied, and three of the nine horses stood
ready saddled and bridled.

Wogan sat down upon a corn-bin and waited while his mare was groomed and
fed. The mare looked round once or twice in the midst of her meal,
twisting her neck as far as her halter allowed.

"I am not gone yet, my lady," said he, "take your time."

Wogan made a ghostly figure in the dim shadowy light. His face was of an
extraordinary pallor; his teeth chattered; his eyes burned. Gaydon
looked at him with concern and said to the groom, "You can take the
saddles off. We shall need no horses to-night."

The four men returned to the house. Wogan went upstairs first. Gaydon