"Truly you did say so, Colonel," humbly admitted those he addressed.
"Verily we should not have contemned his assurance," ejaculated the snuffling tones of Master Ferguson, as he clasped his clawlike fingers, and turned upwards the ferret eyes gleaming beneath a wig almost concealing his mean little forehead; "for of a surety the hand of Providence is with those who put their faith—"
"In the water. Just beyond a little two-oared boat moored to a landing-stage at the bridge foot."
A searching party.
"Verily, I think we may place our confidence and credence—" once more began the snuffling tones; but they were interrupted by Lawrence Lee. "Never mind that now, Master Ferguson," he said. "The best thing to be done is to go to work and rescue this tell-tale knife before any prying eyes have been beforehand with us."
"Ay, well said!" cried Lord Howard. "Have with you, then, Master Lee. Come, friend," he went on, addressing Sheppard, "down with your bolts again."
But Sheppard hesitated, casting appealing glances round. "Why, what ails the fellow now?" demanded Howard; "first he hesitates at putting them up, and now he won't take them down!"
"Mistress Sheppard—my—my wife!" stammered the unfortunate man. "She—that is, so please your lordship's worship's grace, she's such a wide-awake—"
"What the mischief! Isn't she a-bed yet?" laughed Howard. "Come, come, landlord, I'm afraid you rule your house sadly amiss."
"I—I don't rule it, my lord. 'Tis Miss—Mistress Sheppard who—who—"