which knows no waking.'

He sprang down from his saddle, and turned the figure over upon his
back. The cold pale light of the early dawn shimmering upon his staring
eyes and colourless face showed that the old soldier's instinct was
correct, and that he had indeed drawn his last breath.

'Here's a pretty piece of work,' said Saxon, kneeling by the dead man's
side and passing his hands over his pockets. 'Footpads, doubtless.
Not a stiver in his pockets, nor as much as a sleeve-link to help pay
for the burial.'

'How was he slain!' I asked in horror, looking down at the poor vacant
face, the empty house from which the tenant had departed.

'A stab from behind and a tap on the head from the butt of a pistol.
He cannot have been dead long, and yet every groat is gone. A man of
position, too, I should judge from his dress--broadcloth coat by the
feel, satin breeches, and silver buckles on his shoes. The rogues must
have had some plunder with him. Could we but run across them, Clarke,
it would be a great and grand thing.'

'It would indeed,' said I heartily. 'What greater privilege than to
execute justice upon such cowardly murderers!'

'Pooh! pooh!' he cried. 'Justice is a slippery dame, and hath a
two-edged sword in her hand. We may have enough of justice in our
character as rebels to give us a surfeit of it. I would fain overtake
these robbers that we may relieve them of their _spolia opima_, together
with any other wealth which they may have unlawfully amassed.