"To the strong house of Brede, some seven or eight miles from here. I do not know how far exactly, nor in what direction."
"I am well acquainted with it," said Peel. "It was a famous smuggler's place in its time."
"I don't mean a smuggler's place," said I. "I am talking of the country house of the Earl of Westport."
"Yes, curse him, that's the spot I mean. Many a nobleman's house is put to purposes he learns little of, although the Earl is such a scoundrel he may well have been in with the smugglers and sold them to the government."
"Did he sell them?"
"Somebody sold them."
There was a scowl on Peel's face that somehow encouraged me, although I liked the look of the ruffian from the first.
"You're an old friend of his lordship's, then?" said I.
"He has few friends in Rye or about Rye. If you're going to do anything against Westport, I'll get you a hundred men for nothing if there's a chance of escape after the fight."
"Nine men will do me, if they're the right stuff. You will have good cover to sleep under, plenty to eat and drink, and then I expect you to hold Brede House against all the men the Earl of Westport can bring forward."