“Sorry to disturb ye, sir,” said he, civilly; “but duty can't be avoided. I have a warrant to arrest Captain de Meudon, a French officer that is concealed here. May I ask where is he?”
I pointed to the bed. The sergeant approached, and by the half-light could just perceive the glitter of the uniform, as the body lay shaded by the curtain.
“I arrest you, sir, in the King's name,” said he. “Halloo, Kelly! this is your prisoner, isn't he?”
A head appeared at the door as he spoke; and as the eyes wandered stealthily round the chamber, I recognized, despite the change of color, the wretch who led the party at the churchyard.
“Come in, damn ye,” said the sergeant, impatiently; “what are you afraid for? Is this your man? Halloo, sir!” said he, shaking the corpse by the shoulder.
“You must call even louder yet,” said I, while something like the fury of a fiend was working within me.
“What!” said the sergeant, snatching up the light and holding it within the bed. He started back in horror as he did so, and called out, “He is dead!”
Kelly sprang forward at the word, and seizing the candle, held it down to the face of the corpse; but the flame rose as steadily before those cold lips as though the breath of life had never warmed them.
“I 'll get the reward, anyhow, sergeant, won't I?” said the ruffian, while the thirst for gain added fresh expression to his savage features.
A look of disgust was the only reply he met with, as the sergeant walked into the outer room, and whispered something to the man of the house. At the same instant the galloping of a horse was heard on the causeway. It came nearer and nearer, and ceased suddenly at the door, as a deep voice shouted out,—