“The Eastern Causeway, my lord,” answered the captain.
“Voil!” said Feversham, and spread his hands. “What you say now, eh?”
“That that is part of Monmouth's plan to come at you across the moors, by way of Chedzoy, avoiding your only outpost, and falling upon you in your beds, all unawares. Lord! sir, do not take my word for it. Send out your scouts, and I dare swear they'll not need go far before they come upon the enemy.”
Feversham looked at Wentworth. His lordship's face had undergone a change.
“What you t'ink?” he asked.
“Indeed, my lord, it sounds so likely,” answered Wentworth, “that... that... I marvel we did not provide against such a contingency.”
“But I 'ave provide'!” cried this nephew of the great Turenne. “Ogelt'orpe is on t'e moor and Sare Francis Compton. If t'is is true, 'ow can t'ey 'ave miss Monmoot'? Send word to Milor' Churchill at once, Wentwort'. Let t'e matter be investigate'—at once, Wentwort'—at once!” The General was dancing with excitement. Wentworth saluted and turned to leave the room. “If you 'ave tole me true,” continued Feversham, turning now to Richard, “you shall 'ave t'e price you ask, and t'e t'anks of t'e King's army. But if not...”
“Oh, it's true enough,” broke in Wilding, and his voice was like a groan, his face over-charged with gloom.
Feversham looked at him; his sneering smile returned.
“Me, I not remember,” said he, “that Mr. Westercott 'ave include you in t'e bargain.”