"Zounds and thunder! did Sherry see you?"
"No, i' feck; I kept too far from coach to be seen for sarten, and at Angel and Crown Sherry was too heavy laden to spy me."
"Well for you, well for you! Jock, you'll come and take up your quarters here; there's plenty of room. I'll tell 'em to gi' ye a bed."
"What about the horse, Cap'n? I left un at Angel and Crown."
"Let him bide till morning; then you can bring him here too."
"But Squire, Cap'n,—won't he expect us back, me and horse?"
"Not he; 'tis here written; I'm to keep you if there's any work for you, and odzooks! I'll ha' some work for you, never fear. Jock, if your story has made you as dry as it has made me you're main thirsty; go down and bring up beer for two, and a lighted candle. I'll ring and wake that rascal by the time you get to the foot of the stairs."
The man went down by the way he had come, and the captain returned to his room. As soon as the coast was clear, Sherebiah slipped out into the gallery, carrying his shoes to avoid noise, ran down the outer staircase, stood for a few moments at the foot to make sure that all was safe, then darted across the yard and out at the gate. The street was quite deserted, and Sherebiah, secure from molestation, walked slowly along towards London Bridge, deep in thought. His friend Harry had been followed to London at the orders of the squire; what was the meaning of that? Surely Mr. Berkeley did not intend to wreak vengeance on the son for the baffled opposition of the father? What had Captain Aglionby to do with the matter? Rumour the omniscient had informed the village that the captain's departure had been occasioned by a violent quarrel with the squire; yet it was plain that the squire knew the captain's whereabouts and was enlisting his aid in some project. Sherebiah wished that he could get a sight of Mr. Berkeley's letter; he was puzzled to account for the old man's shock as Harry passed the gate; but try as he might to piece these strange circumstances together, all his cogitation suggested no clue.
So absorbed was he, so mechanical his movements, that he started convulsively when, just as he had passed through Traitor's Gate, a man stepped suddenly before him from a narrow entry and bade him stop in the Queen's name. Looking up, he saw that his way was barred by a corpulent constable in cocked hat and laced coat, with a staff two feet longer than himself, and half a dozen ancient and decrepit watchmen with lanterns and staves.
"Stand!" cried the constable. "Give an account of yourself."