"Then of course you intend to marry her yourself," said O'Donnell. "Well, that being the case, I will go home and consider between this and this hour to-morrow what I will take. I must make my calculations, for I am a man of my word, and like to know exactly what a thing is worth before I put a price upon it; but by this time to-morrow I will tell you; so good-morning, Mr. Dry: it is getting late."

"But where shall I find you? where shall I find you?" asked Mr. Dry, as the other moved towards the door.

"Oh, Mrs. White will send a boy with you," replied O'Donnell; "she knows where it is now: good afternoon;" and issuing forth, he spoke a word or two to the landlady, and then quitted the house, murmuring, "The old snake! I know them, those canting vipers--I know them!"

[CHAPTER XXIV.]

It was ten o'clock at night; the town was dark and silent; the streets empty, and the windows generally closed, when Diggory Falgate advanced with a light gay step through various narrow ways towards the block-house where the Earl of Beverley was confined. He was followed at the distance of about a hundred yards by Ancient Hazard of the train-bands, and a short distance behind him came Captain Barecolt, with the silent step but wide stride of one well accustomed to dangerous enterprises.

The foremost of the party, we have said, advanced lightly and gaily, with that sort of braggadocio air which characterized the Cavaliers in almost all their undertakings, and which, or rather the foolish self-confidence of which it was the mere outward expression, ruined so many of their best concerted plans. Ancient Hazard, however, as he walked along, displayed a very different aspect. He was somewhat afraid of the business in hand; and, though resolved to carry it through, his head turned almost involuntarily to the right or left at every step, thinking that some one must be watching him, though the only suspicions that existed anywhere regarding his conduct were those in his own heart. Barecolt, on the contrary, though as likely as any man, from natural disposition, to make as much noise about whatever he did as was necessary, was too much habituated to enterprises of this kind to be particularly excited on the occasion, and his vanity took the direction of affecting to look upon it as a matter of course, so commonplace and easy that it allowed him to think of anything else; and he therefore followed with his eyes bent upon the ground, noticing, apparently, nothing that passed around him.

The first, and indeed only, obstruction that presented itself to their progress towards the block-house was offered by the watch, who, encountering good Diggory Falgate, carrying, it must be remarked, a small bundle under his arm, and not particularly approving of the jaunty air with which he gave them good-night, thought fit to stop him, and, in Shakspere's words, "prate of his whereabout."

Falgate was always ready to cry clubs, and strongly disposed to resist the watch when it could be done with the slightest probability of success; so that a very pretty quarrel was commencing, which might soon have conveyed him to prison, or the cage, had not Hazard come to his support, and informed the worthy guardians of the night that the captive in their hands was his poor neighbour Falgate the painter, who was not an ill-disposed man, though somewhat inclined to moisten his clay with more than a sufficient quantity of strong beer; and he moreover hinted that such might be the case on that very night.

This assurance proved so far satisfactory that the watch thought fit to let him go with a suitable admonition, and Hazard, acting his part better when he grew warm in the matter, bade Diggory, in a rough tone, go on about his business and not make broils in the streets, or he would get himself into mischief.

This said, the whole party proceeded on their way, resuming as soon as possible the same order of march as before, Captain Barecolt, with his grave and serious demeanour, passing the watch without question.