"I do not understand what you mean, Dick," replied Smeaton; "but I do not think I am likely to be caught."
"What I mean is plain enough," pursued the lad. "I have heard that, in the year ninety-two, a whole party of gentlemen were taken at Mount Place, and then again, later still, some more. The old man himself got off once; but the next time he was taken with the rest, and was eighteen months in prison. Either the lawyers found out that he was not a man, but a monkey, and did not hang him, or else they could prove nothing against him; but they hanged one or two of the others, or did something with them. So, if I were you, I would not stay long at Mount Place, for fear of being made to chew unlawful bacon."
Smeaton smiled; but at the same time demanded, in a grave tone--
"Have you any particular cause for your warning, Richard?"
"No--no," replied the lad, hesitating a little; "only two messengers went off from Ale this morning--one to Mount Place, and the other to Exeter. I have known harm happen after messengers went off, especially when they have gone so early."
Smeaton paused thoughtfully ere he replied.
"I will not stay long," he said at length; "it is but a visit of ceremony."
"Then now I will take some other road," rejoined Richard Newark; "but mind you are home before dinner, or I shall think they have kidnapped you."
"No fear of that," said his companion; "but, as your father evidently did not like your going at all, I think we had better, as you say, take separate paths."
"How goes it with you and Emmeline?" asked Richard, lowering his voice, and giving a gay look towards his companion. "Sad work, noble gentleman! The poor doves in their separate cages have been forced to silence their cooing. Ah, they will be obliged to come to me, in the end, to help them." And, laughing lightly, he turned his horse's head and galloped away.