Hilary in great astonishment stood by, glancing from one to the other. Waghorn, then, had been the Colonel’s ambassador! Had he suddenly turned Royalist, or was it merely to revenge himself on Gabriel that he had become a spy?
“Sir,” said Waghorn, “I did all that you told me. Last night, having changed my outward man, I followed Captain Harford wherever he went in Ledbury. As the shadow followeth the wayfaring man when the sun shineth, so did I follow him. I saw Colonel Massey give him the despatches.”
“Well! Well! did you take them?” asked Norton, impatiently.
Not heeding the interruption, Waghorn stolidly resumed his tale.
“He hid them in his buff coat and lay down to sleep by the market-house. I well-nigh took the packet from him, but a cur barked and he roused up, gripped me by the arm and called the guard.”
“Idiot! I might have known that you would bungle the business. How was it you did not get him disabled in the skirmish instead of being knocked on the head yourself?”
“I adjured Prince Rupert’s men to fire on him,” said Waghorn, with solemn vindictiveness, “and the ball of the avenger entered into his arm; but he still galloped on, clinging to the neck of his steed. Then one of the ungodly clouted me on the head and I saw him no more.”
His slow speech, and the failure of the enterprise irritated Norton past endurance.
Seizing him by the coat-collar, he gave him a sound shaking.
“You prating, pig-headed, sour-faced lunatic! I wish I had managed the matter myself. Did you not ask which way he rode? Was there no pursuit by the Prince’s troopers?”