“Last night, sir, after dark.”
“Did he stop in this house?”
“Yes, sir. I thought he was a friend of yours, for he knew your horse when I was putting up his own. He asked if you were here, and I told him you were in the room over the yard.”
“What is Broughton; a hamlet?”
“It is a castle, sir. Lord Say’s castle, about three miles from here. General Cromwell is there now; it is his headquarters in this district.”
“Cromwell!”
The young man stood stock still, his eyes gazing into vacancy. What traffic had this King’s Chamberlain with Cromwell? How dared he come within the Parliamentary lines, undisguised, unless—unless——Like inspiration the whole situation flashed upon him. De Courcy knew the burden he carried, and had seen where it was placed. He was on his way to sell his secret and set the troops on the track of the messenger. He must be off at once and outride the traitor. Before De Courcy had gone his three miles, he would have traversed a dozen, and from then on it would be a race to the Scottish border.
“Is my horse fed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get him out at once. I will arouse the others.” He took three steps toward the inn, then stopped as if shot, his hand clutching his breast.