Chapter Forty Two.
A Reconnaissance.
Instead of viewing the rural scenery, the two colonels had come there to make a reconnaissance. The town itself, its fortified enceinte, the gates piercing it, and the roads around, were the objects to which their glances were given. And, for a time, all their attention was engrossed by them, neither speaking a word.
At length Massey, having made survey of them through the telescope, handed it to the knight, saying,—
“So you think there’s a chance of our taking the place?”
Sir Richard but ran the glass around hastily. He had been up there before, and more carefully reconnoitred, their chief object being to ascertain the strength of the garrison.
“Yes, your Excellency,” he rejoined, “a chance, and something more, if Kyrle prove true; or rather should I say, traitor. And,” he added, with a significant smile, “I think we can trust him to do that.”
“As it wouldn’t be the first time for him, no doubt we can. He has twice turned coat already. And’s no doubt itching to give it another shift, if he can but see the way without getting it torn from his back. Marston Moor has had its effect on him, too, I suppose.”
“It has, and our affair at Beachley will strengthen it. He’ll want to be back on what he believes the winning side now more than ever. His communication to me, though carefully worded, means that, if anything. But we’ll be better able to judge when our despatch-bearers report themselves at High Meadow House. I think we may look for a letter from him.”