This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of their conduct.
I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway.
"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand.
"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night."
"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad."
"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir."
"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced blackguards at his service and will compass hell itself to fetch you down. What about money?"
"I've plenty and to spare," I answered, "thanks to your generous loan."
"No loan, lad, but my first contribution to the expenses of--what shall we say for safety? Your tour. How will that do?"
"Nay, sir--"