Blinking up at him I saw him for a huge fellow; p. 66he must have stood six feet in height, and was of a great breadth of shoulder and depth of chest. As his sleeve slipped back from his hairy forearm I saw its swelling muscles, and understood ruefully the ease with which he had held me. His face was handsome in a rough, bold way, though coarse and besotted; his chin and jaws were blue-black from the razor; his hair black and curling; his eyes blood-shot from drink. He wore a battered brown hat, a rough, brown riding coat, with leather breeches and mud-splashed riding boots; his soiled cravat was held by a brooch of flashing red stones. Looking up at him, understanding the strength of the man, for something of good humour in his coarse drunken face I did not fear him, as I feared the crone, whose evil green eyes had glittered at me when my captor thrust me into the house. He grinned down at me, and growled, “So you’re well enough for the time, eh, young sir?”

p. 66

“Well enough but what’s your purpose with me? Why have you brought me here?”

“When you know that,” said he, “you’ll know as much as I do. Nay, you’ll know more.”

“You mean that you’re hired for this? You’re only the servant of an enemy of mine, whose interest it is to keep me out of Rogues’ Haven?”

p. 67“Rogues’ Haven! So you’ve caught the name?”

p. 67

“To be sure I know the name,” I answered boldly for the good humour of the fellow. “And know the reason for it. And think I know the name of your principal.”

“Oh, ho! Though he plays his game in secret. You’ll be knowin’ more’n it’s safe for you to know, young sir. And”—with a sudden gesture towards the door—“if you’ll take a word from me, you’ll be wiser, if you keep your mouth shut.”

While yet I blinked at him, I heard the old woman once more unlock the door to admit the big fellow’s companion, who presently entered the room. I saw him for a lean, cadaverous, young man of no great height; his high-crowned hat, his coat, his buckskins, the laces at his throat dandified; he was jauntily flicking his top boots with his riding switch, and his spurs were jingling. An ill-looking fellow,—I marked his pale sneering lips and the sinister light of his green eyes; I feared him as an enemy even as I feared the crone with the blue shawl about her black rags, her evil eyes peering at me, and her jaws working, as she hobbled after 

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