“Where have you bestowed this messenger?” quoth he.
“He is here in Bridgwater, in bed, at the Bell Inn, whence he sent for you to Zoyland Chase. Suspecting trouble, I rode to him at once myself.”
“Come, then,” said Wilding. “We'll go talk with him. This matter needs probing ere we decide on flight. You do not seem to have sought to discover who were the thieves, nor other matters that it may be of use to know.”
“Rat me!” swore Trenchard. “I was in haste to bring you news of it. Besides, there were other things to talk of. There is news that Albemarle has gone to Exeter, and that Sir Edward Phelips and Colonel Luttrell have been ordered to Taunton by the King.”
Mr. Wilding stared at him with sudden dismay.
“Odso!” he exclaimed. “Is King James taking fright at last?” Then he shrugged his shoulders and laughed; “Pshaw!” he cried. “They are starting at a shadow.”
“Heaven send,” prayed Trenchard, “that the shadow does not prove to have a substance immediately behind it.”
“Folly!” said Wilding. “When Monmouth comes, indeed, we shall not lack forewarning. Come,” he added briskly. “We'll see this messenger and endeavour to discover who were these fellows that beset him.” And he drew Trenchard from among the tombstones to the open path, and thus from the churchyard and the eyes of the gaping onlookers.