"Aye! aye!"
"The rest is for the poor box at Aldwark this time. Perhaps there'll be more before the morn."
"Captain..."
"Hush! don't begin to lecture, John!" said Beau Brocade, with curious earnestness. "I tell thee, friend, there's madness in my veins to-night. I pray thee go back home, and leave me to myself."
"Don't send me away, Captain," pleaded John, "I ... I ... am uneasy, and..."
"Dear, kind, faithful John," murmured Bathurst. "Zounds! but I'm an ungrateful wretch, for I vow thou dost love me, friend."
"You know I do, Captain. I ... I ... I'd give..."
"Nay ... nothing!" interrupted Jack, quickly, "give me nothing but that love of thine, friend ... it is more precious than life ... but I pray thee, let me be to-night ... I swear to thee I'll do no harm.... I'll see thee in the morn, John.... I'll be safe ... never fear!"
John Stich sighed. He knew that further protest was useless. Already Beau Brocade had turned Jack o' Lantern's head once more towards the crest of the hill. The smith waited awhile, listening while he could to the sound of the horse's hoofs on the rain-sodden earth. His honest heart was devoured with anxiety both for his friend and for the brave young lady who was journeying townwards to-night.
Suddenly it seemed to him as if far away he could hear the creaking of wheels on the distant Wirksworth road. The air was so still, that presently he could hear it quite distinctly. 'Twas her ladyship's coach, no doubt, plying its slow, wearying way along the quaggy road.