home, he resolved to keep a sharp watch over the doings of this man
Nicholson.

"It would never do to tell my father what Ciceley said. He would
bundle the fellow out, neck and crop, and perhaps break some of his
bones, and then it would be traced to her. She has not a happy
home, as it is, and it would be far worse if her father knew that
it was she who had put us on our guard. I must find out something
myself, and then we can turn him out, without there being the least
suspicion that Ciceley is mixed up in it."

The next evening several Jacobite gentlemen rode in, and, as usual,
had a long talk with Sir Marmaduke after supper.

"If this fellow is a spy," Charlie said to himself, "he will be
wanting to hear what is said, and to do so he must either hide
himself in the room, or listen at the door, or at one of the
windows. It is not likely that he will get into the room, for to do
that he must have hidden himself before supper began. I don't think
he would dare to listen at the door, for anyone passing through the
hall would catch him at it. It must be at one of the windows."

The room was at an angle of the house. Three windows looked out on
to the lawn in front; that at the side into a large shrubbery,
where the bushes grew up close to it; and Charlie decided that
here, if anywhere, the man would take up his post. As soon, then,
as he knew that the servants were clearing away the supper, he took
a heavy cudgel and went out. He walked straight away from the
house, and then, when he knew that his figure could no longer be
seen in the twilight, he made a circuit, and, entering the