"I'll tarry at least till these other gentlemen are gone home," he said, and betook himself to the other end of the table. Neale and Cornwaleys loitered a few minutes, then rose with a yawn and a stretching of the arms and legs.
"Give you good evening, gentlemen!" Neale said to those at the end.
"Good-night, Sir Landlord, and thanks for your good fire and better ale!" called Cornwaleys, following him lazily out at the door.
But outside their idle lounging ceased. They drew close together and whispered anxiously. The watch passed. They only drew closer into the shadow and let him go by. Then they pressed their faces to the hole in the shutters, and stood gazing at the pair inside, who sat quaffing tankard after tankard by the wavering light of the candles and the red glow of the embers on the hearth.
A few moments later they were joined by a third man. A Monmouth cap was pulled low over his eyes, and the collar of his cloak raised to meet it so that none could see his features. Neale and Cornwaleys showed no surprise at his approach, but seemed to be awaiting him.
"How goes it?" asked the new-comer in a whisper.
"To a charm so far," answered Neale.
"I confess I like not the part we are playing."
"Nor I either, but it must be played. The villagers are much roused against Ingle, yet have a group of them been drinking at his cost at the tavern to-night, and whatever is done by the authorities will give offence in some quarter."
"Ay, and his punishment most of all. There be many that like him for his dare-devil ways, and more that tolerate him for the sake of his brother."