"Bring on the saddle," said the captain. "There may be papers stitched in it." We heard the sergeant unbuckling the girth. "By the way," said the captain, "you're sure the third horse was led?"
"Yes," said the sergeant. "Two and a led horse there was, sir."
"H'm," said the captain. "I wonder if they have dismounted. They might have. Look about among the rocks there."
I saw Marah's right hand raise his horse-pistol, as the sergeant stepped nearer. In another moment he must have seen us. If he had even looked down, he could not have failed to see us: but he stood within six feet of us, looking all round him—looking anywhere but at his feet. Then he walked away from us, and looked at the rocks near the brook.
"D'ye see them?" snapped the captain.
"No, sir. Nothin' of 'em. They ben't about here, sir. I think they've ridden on. Shall I look in the furze there, sir, afore we go?"
"No," said the captain. "Well, yes. Just take a squint through it."
But as the sergeant waddled uneasily in his sea-boots across the shingle, the carbines of the preventives cracked out in a volley about a quarter of a mile away. A shot or two followed the volley.
"A shotgun that last, sir," said the sergeant.
"Yes," said the captain. "Come along. There's another. Come, mount, man. They're engaged."