"Here, this path will do. Anthony Durrell, what shall you say if we are trapped?"
"What do you mean?"
"For God's sake, sir, keep that squeaky voice of yours down in your shoes! Pardon me, I am somewhat excited. There is a red-coat officer lying at his ease upon your couch. He had covered himself with a rug, but I got a glimpse of his red jacket. And Mademoiselle Nance is asleep before the fire."
The three men stood close together under the laurels and hollies, whispering with their heads close, and speaking sometimes in French and sometimes in English. The tall man seemed to take the lead.
"Pest on it, Durrell; I have a mind to go back and shoot the man through the window."
"No—no—I will not countenance——"
"There, there, am I a fool! The house may be full of red-coats. We have got to find that out. Your daughter expects you?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, you must go and knock as boldly as any corporal. Jerome and I can stay in the shadow by the porch. If the red-coat is alone, and means mischief, we can deal with him. If he has men with him, they will catch nothing but a respectable scholar returning after a journey to London. It is lucky I left the horses in the quarry."
Anthony Durrell fingered a prominent and bony chin.