"Sir!" cried Wat, "call off your men, and permit us to explain our presence."
But the man vouchsafed not a word in reply, only stood and looked over the heads of his men at Scarlett's legs.
"Why, man!" he cried, at length, "ye should be for the Good Cause; ye have gotten the King of France's boots on!"
"Aye," said Scarlett, instantly dropping his point; "certainly we are for the Good Cause. Truly, also, I have the King of France's boots on, and that with good reason, for when I left France I was officer in His Majesty's Luxembourg regiment."
Which, indeed, was very true, but certain other things had happened in between.
The tall man seemed pleased at his own acute observation. He called off his men with a single stern word, which sounded almost like a bidding given to a dog to lie down.
"But what seek you in my country?" he asked them.
Now Scarlett would have given something to know in what country he was, and still more to know who was the owner of it; but not knowing either, he had to do the best he could with the limited information at his disposal.
"We are here," he said, laying his finger meaningly on his lip, "on the part of his Majesty the King of France, for the furtherance of the Good Cause."
And he added, under his breath, "And a precious deal would I give to know for certain what in this instance the Good Cause is!"