He is awoke by the murmur of voices.
“I tell thee the old fellow is worth a mint of money, and Jack Cantfull, who is the ostler at the ‘Rose and Crown,’ says he rides all alone to Moreton, and goes through this pass, but why he takes this road instead of the other I know not, only Jack is to be his guide.”
“He will pay for knocking on the head!”
“Jack will expect his share when the deed is done.”
“Nay,” said another voice, “no throat cutting or head splitting, if it can be done without.”
“Thou hast become scrupulous, Tony; hast thou forgotten the colour of blood?”
“Nay, as I am a true Gubbing,[30] I mind it no more than ale, when called upon to shed it, but we need not make the country too hot to hold us.”
“Dead men tell no tales.”
“Well, we must be moving, he was to start at six.” And soon Cuthbert heard them climb down the slope from a cave (well known to him, but which happily he had not entered) below the summit on which he had been reposing.
They had gone to beset the pass higher up.