“What ship?”
“The Kestrel.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” he grumbled. “Beg your honour’s pardon. I’ll get up. Give’s your hand.”
Half-laughing and at the same time proud of the power his rank gave him, Hilary held out his hands to the man, who took them tightly and was in the act of drawing himself up, when the young officer felt himself seized from behind and held, as it were, in a vice. Just at the same moment the door of the cottage was opened, there was a bright light shone out, and before he could realise his position he was forced into the place, and awoke to the fact, as the door was banged to, that he had fallen into a trap.
“You scoundrels!” he cried furiously; “do you want to rob me?” And he saw that he was in the presence of half a dozen more men.
“Silence, sir!” cried an authoritative voice. “Stand back, my lads. It was very cleverly done.”
“Cleverly done!” cried Hilary. “What do you mean, sir? I desire you let me go. Are you aware that I am a king’s officer?”
“Yes, I heard you announce it, and you are the man we have been looking after for days,” said the one who seemed to be in authority; and by the light of a bright wood fire Hilary could make out that he was a tall, dark man in a long boat-cloak, which he had thrown back from his breast.
“Then I advise you to set me free directly,” said Hilary.
“Yes, we shall do that when we have done,” said the leader, from whom all the others stood away in respect; and as the light burned up the speaker took off his cocked hat, and Hilary saw that he was a singularly handsome man of about forty.