Hartop glanced at Timothy with a curious light in his eyes.
"And yet," said he, "I traced both Jasper and Philip's footprints in the snowy ground of Beddington Lane. What should that bode, I pray you?"
"Tut!" retorted Timothy. "How know you their footprints from those of any other honest folk?"
The old mariner answered with quiet deliberation, and with a firmness that seemed to show that he had little doubt upon the matter:
"By the token that Jasper Oglander's feet do turn slightly inward as he walks, and by the fact that his boots be pointed at the toes, in the Spanish fashion. By the token, too, that in the snow, hard against the left bootmark of him who walked by his side, there was here and there a little line, made by the point of a rapier scabbard—made, as I take it, by the point of Philip Oglander's rapier, which, if you will have occasion to observe, is a weapon of unusual length."
"Marry!" cried Trollope. "Thou art surely a very bloodhound in thy skill at tracking!"
"'Tis an art that hath oft served me in good stead," returned Hartop. "I learned it from John Hawkins. And, touching this matter of the wounding of Master Gilbert, didst chance to regard the fashion of his adversary's sword-play?"
Timothy shook his head. "I knew naught of the encounter till 'twas over," he answered. "Yet wait; Master Gilbert did indeed tell me this morning that the man had enwrapped his guard arm with the skirt of his cloak."
"Ay, Philip Oglander's own method. I had guessed so much," said Hartop with a confident nod of his head.