There was here another pause.
Oliver rose, and going to the outer door, called:
'Hewson! Hewson!'
A grim-looking corporal entered.
'Hewson, have your guard ready at eight o'clock, with their carbines clean, and a round of ball-cartridge each. Keep them sober; and, further, plant two upright posts at the near end of the bridge, with a cross one at top, in the manner of a gibbet. See to these matters, Hewson: I shall be with you speedily.'
The corporal made his salutations, and retired.
Oliver deliberately folded up the papers with which I had been commissioned, and placing them in the pocket of his vest, he said:
'Cunning, cunning Master Hardress Fitzgerald hath made a false step; the old fox is in the toils. Hardress Fitzgerald, Hardress Fitzgerald, I will blot you out.'
He repeated these words several times, at the same time rubbing his finger strongly upon the table, as if he sought to erase a stain:
'I WILL BLOT YOU OUT!'