had at an early hour ridden off towards Stafford, while the sergeant of
dragoons was still lurking at the "Black Swan." There had been long
consultations between them as if they were acting in concert.

This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had
seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake
had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would
in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his
evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be
only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a
useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let
slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of
their conduct.

I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my
ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till
we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway.

"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand.

"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night."

"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean
to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad."

"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir."

"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no
fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and
keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced