“Yes, and go with you myself.”
He ordered two horses to be ready in half-an-hour, and himself went round to three or four neighbours, and invited them to join the party, telling them, of course, the object of their sudden departure. Not one of them hesitated a moment, for Villemet was popular among them; and the farmers of Yaxley were, at that time, manly, steady, and obliging fellows, in no wise ashamed to be seen in their place in the house of God. And the race is happily not extinct.
“Shall we take pistols?”
“Yes. But don’t use them if you can possibly help it.”
They cantered off, a party of six, all firm in the saddle, and passed the barracks without attracting much attention, as it was dark.
The difficulty was to know what road Villemet had taken, but they all agreed they must
chance it, and go straight away to Spalding. Thither they galloped as fast as horses’ legs could carry them, arriving there soon after midnight.
A belated hostler at one of the inns was asked whether he had seen a horseman, or horsemen, pass through the town lately. He scratched his head and meditated.
“Aye, to be sure I have. Leastways, one. What a memory I have! Why I had my lantern with me, and took a good look at him. By George, his horse was steaming. But it was a poor creature, and would sweat, I should think, if he only whisked his tail twice, only he’d got none.”
“What a picture of a screw!” said one of the party, laughing heartily with the rest.