if the talkers feared to be overheard.

They were well mounted, these three, on horses known as Scottish nags,
square-built, sturdy beasts, that could cover forty miles in the day.
They were splashed, too, not the horses only, but the riders, also, as
if they had ridden far, through streams or boggy ground. The men were
dressed soberly and well, like poor gentlemen or prosperous yeomen; all
three were bearded, and all carried arms as could be seen from the flash
of the sun on their hilts. It was plain, too, that they were not rogues
or cutters, since each carried his valise on his saddle, as well as from
their appearance. Our gentlemen, then, after passing them with a salute
and a good-day, were once more about to say good-bye one to the other,
and appoint a time and place to meet again for the hunting of which
Robin had spoken to Marjorie, and, indeed, had drawn rein--when one of
the three strangers was seen to turn his horse and come riding back
after them, while his friends waited.

The two lads wheeled about to meet him, as was but prudent; but while he
was yet twenty yards away he lifted his hat. He seemed about thirty
years old; he had a pleasant, ruddy face.

"Mr. Babington, I think, sir," he said.

"That is my name," said Anthony.

"I have heard mass in your house, sir," said the stranger. "My name is
Garlick."

"Why, yes, sir, I remember--from Tideswell. How do you do, Mr. Garlick?
This is Mr. Audrey, of Matstead."