Barnet was then, as now, a somewhat straggling place. Soon after
entering it, the horseman turned off from the main road. His
pursuers were but fifty yards behind him, and they kept him in
sight until, after proceeding a quarter of a mile, he stopped at a
small tavern, where he dismounted, and a boy took his horse and led
it round by the side of the house.
"Run to earth!" Harry said exultantly. "He is not likely to move
from there tonight."
"At any rate, he is safe for a couple of hours," Charlie said. "So
we will go to our inn, and have a good meal. By that time it will
be quite dark, and we will have a look at the place he has gone
into; and if we can't learn anything, we must watch it by turns
till midnight. We will arrange, at the inn, to hire a horse. One
will be enough. He only caught a glimpse of us at that inn, and
certainly would not recognize one of us, if he saw him alone. The
other can walk."
"But which way, Charlie? He may go back again." "It is hardly
likely he came here merely for the pleasure of stopping the night
at that little tavern. I have no doubt he is bound for London. You
shall take the horse, Harry, and watch until he starts, and then
follow him, just managing to come up close to him as he gets into
town. I will start early, and wait at the beginning of the houses,
and it is hard if one or other of us does not manage to find out
where he hides."
They had no difficulty in arranging with the landlord for a horse,
which was to be left in a stable he named in town. They gave him a
deposit, for which he handed them a note, by which the money was to
be returned to them by the stable keeper, on their handing over the
horse in good condition.
After the meal they sallied out again, and walked to the tavern,
which was a small place standing apart from other houses. There was
a light in the taproom, but they guessed that here, as at the other
stopping place, the man they wanted would be in a private
apartment. Passing the house, they saw a light in a side window,
and, noiselessly opening a little wicket gate, they stole into the
garden. Going a short distance back from the window, so that the
light should not show their faces, they looked in, and saw the man
they sought sitting by the fire, with a table on which stood a
bottle and two glasses beside him, and another man facing him.
"Stay where you are, Harry. I will steal up to the window, and find
out whether I can hear what they are saying."
Stooping close under the window, he could hear the murmur of
voices, but could distinguish no words. He rejoined his companion.
"I am going to make a trial to overhear them, Harry, and it is
better that only one of us should be here. You go back to the inn,
and wait for me there."
"What are you going to do, Charlie?"
"I am going to throw a stone through the lower part of the window.
Then I shall hide. They will rush out, and when they can find no
one, they will conclude that the stone was thrown by some
mischievous boy going along the road. When all is quiet again I
will creep up to the window, and it will be hard if I don't manage
to learn something of what they are saying."
The plan was carried out, and Charlie, getting close up to the
window, threw a stone through one of the lowest of the little
diamond-shaped panes. He heard a loud exclamation of anger inside,
and then sprang away and hid himself at the other end of the
garden. A moment later he heard loud talking in the road, and a man
with a lantern came round to the window; but in a few minutes all
was quiet again, and Charlie cautiously made his way back to the
window, and crouched beneath it. He could hear plainly enough, now,
the talk going on within.
"What was I saying when that confounded stone interrupted us?"
"You were saying, captain, that you intended to have a week in
London, and then to stop the North coach."
"Yes, I have done well lately, and can afford a week's pleasure.
Besides, Jerry Skinlow got a bullet in his shoulder, last week, in
trying to stop a carriage on his own account, and Jack Mercer's
mare is laid up lame, and it wants four to stop a coach neatly.
Jack Ponsford is in town. I shall bring him out with me."
"I heard that you were out of luck a short time ago."
"Yes, everything seemed against me. My horse was shot, and, just at
the time, I had been having a bad run at the tables and had lost my
last stiver. I was in hiding for a fortnight at one of the cribs;
for they had got a description of me from an old gentleman, who,
with his wife and daughter, I had eased of their money and watches.
It was a stupid business. I dropped a valuable diamond ring on the
ground, and in groping about for it my mask came off, and, like a
fool, I stood up in the full light of the carriage lamp. So I
thought it better, for all reasons, to get away for a month or so,
until things quieted down. I wanted to visit my banker, and it was
a good many miles to tramp."
"Oh, you have got a banker, captain?"
"I have one who is just as good, though I cannot say he shells out
his money willingly--in fact he was rude enough to say, when I
called this time, that if I ever showed my face to him again he
would shoot me, even if he were hung for it. Bad taste, wasn't it?
At any rate, I mustn't call on him again too soon."
"You haven't settled on the night yet, I suppose, captain?"
"About the end of next week. Friday will be a full moon, I think,
and I like a moon for the work. It gives light enough to see what
you are doing, and not light enough for them to see much of you. So
I suppose I may as well fix Friday. I will send up a message for
Jack Mercer and Jerry Skinlow to be here on Thursday evening. I
will be here that afternoon, and settle matters with them as to
where they shall meet me, and what each man shall do. Then I will
ride back to town, and come out again just as it gets dark, with
Jack Ponsford."
"I suppose you will do it north of here?"
"No, I will do it a mile or two out of town. The road north of this
is getting rather a bad reputation, and in going out of Barnet the
guard now looks to his blunderbuss, and the passengers get their
pistols ready. It isn't once in a hundred times they have pluck
enough to use them, but they always think they will, until the time
comes. Near town we shall take them by surprise, and stop them
before they have time to think of getting out their arms.
"Confound that window. Shove something into the hole, Johnson. I
can feel the cold right down my back."
A cloth was pushed into the broken pane, and Charlie could hear no
more of what was said inside. He had heard, indeed, enough for his
purpose, but he had hoped to gather the name of the place at which
the man would put up in London. However, he was well satisfied with
his success, and at once made his way back to the inn.
"Well, Charlie, how have you succeeded?" Harry asked, as he sat
down at the table.
"Could not be better, Harry, though I did not find out where he
puts up in London. However, that is of small consequence. In the
first place, I found out that our suspicions were right, and that
the fellow is a highwayman, and seems to be captain of a gang
consisting anyhow of three, and perhaps of more, fellows like
himself. In the second place, he intends, with his three comrades,
to attack the coach on Friday week, two or three miles out of town.
Nothing could better suit our purpose, even if we had planned the
affair ourselves. Of course, we will be there. If we can capture
him while engaged in that work, we can get anything out of him. He
has either got to confess or be hanged."
"That is a stroke of good luck, indeed," Harry exclaimed. "It will
be rather difficult to manage, though. The fellows will be sure to
be masked; and, if we were to shoot him instead of one of the
others, it would be fatal."
"Yes, that would be awkward. Besides," Charlie said, "even if we
did recognize him and shot his horse, he might jump up behind one
of the other men, or might make off across the country, and we
might lose sight of him before we could get down from the top of
the coach to pursue."
"It might be better if we were mounted, instead of being on the
coach."
"Better in some ways, Harry; but if they heard two mounted men
coming along beside the coach, they would probably take the alarm
and not attack at all; while, if we were to keep a bit behind, and
ride up as soon as we heard the firing--for they generally shoot
one of the horses to bring the coach to a standstill--they might
ride off as soon as they heard the sound of the horses on the road.
Those fellows are splendidly mounted. Their lives depend upon it,
and nothing we should be able to hire would be likely to have a
chance with them."
"Well, we shall have plenty of time to think this over, Charlie. I
suppose we shall carry out our plan tomorrow, as we arranged."
"Certainly. It is as important to find out where he lives in London
as it was before, for if he gets away, we can then look him up
there. We may as well go to bed at once, for I shall start at four,
so as to get to town before him, however early he may be off. But
as we know, now, he is going up on pleasure and not on business, I
don't suppose he will be in any hurry in the morning."
Charlie arrived in town about eight o'clock, and, having
breakfasted at the first tavern he came to, walked along for some
distance, to decide upon the spot where he should take up his
position. As Nicholson was going up, as he said, to enjoy himself,
it was not likely that he would put up at Islington, but would take
up his quarters in the centre of the town. He therefore decided to
walk on, until he came to some junction of important roads; and
there wait, as the man might make either for the city or
Westminster, though the latter appeared the more probable
direction.
Here he walked up and down for an hour, and then, entering a
tavern, took his place at the window, where he could see up the
street, called for a stoup of wine, and prepared for a long wait.
It was not, indeed, until three o'clock that he saw Nicholson
coming along. He was more gaily dressed than he had been on the
previous day. He had on a green cloth coat with gold braid round
the cuffs, an embroidered waistcoat, yellow breeches, top boots,
and three-cornered hat. He was riding at foot pace.
Charlie went to the door as soon as he passed, and saw that, as he
expected, he took the road to Westminster. Looking round, he saw
Harry riding about a hundred yards behind. Charlie had no
difficulty in keeping up with Nicholson, and traced him to a house
in a quiet street lying behind the Abbey. A boy came out and held
the horse, while its rider dismounted, and then led it away to the
stable of an inn a short distance away. Charlie turned at once, and
joined Harry.
"I need not have taken all the trouble I have, Harry, still there
was no knowing. Evidently the fellow has no fear of being detected,
and is going to pass, for a week, as a gentleman from the country.
I suppose he is in the habit of stopping at that house whenever he
comes up with his pockets lined, and is regarded there as a
respectable gentleman by the landlord. Now you had better take your
horse to the stable, where you agreed to hand it over, and we will
meet at our lodgings and plan what to do next."
The discussion did not lead to much. There did not seem, to them,
anything to do until the day when the coach was to be attacked, but
they agreed it would be well to take the advice of their friend the
tipstaff. Hitherto, they had not told him more of their motive for
desiring to find Nicholson, than Charlie had said at his first
interview with him. They thought it would be better, now, to make
him more fully acquainted with the facts, for they had found him
shrewd, and eager to assist them to the best of his power. They
therefore sent a boy with a note to him, at the court, and at seven
o'clock he came to their lodgings.
"We have found our man," Charlie said as he entered.
"I am very glad to hear it, gentlemen. I had quite given up all
hopes that you would be able to do so, and thought he must have
left town altogether for a time."
"Sit down and take a glass of wine. We want your advice in this
matter, and unless you know how much there is at stake, you will
not be able to enter fully into the affair.
"Some four years ago, this fellow was concerned in a plot by which
six gentlemen, among whom were our friends, were brought to ruin.
They were in the habit of meeting together, being all of similar
political opinions, and advantage was taken of this by a man, who
hoped to profit largely by their ruin, especially by that of my
father. In order to bring this about, he recommended this fellow we
are in search of to my father, who happened, at the time, to be in
want of a servant.
"The fellow undoubtedly acted as a spy, for I once caught him at
it. But spying alone would have been of no use, for there was
nothing at any time said that would have brought harm upon them.
They simply discussed what thousands of other people have
discussed, the measures that should be taken on behalf of the
Stuarts, if one of them came over from France supported by a French
force. The fellow, however, swore that the object of these meetings
was to arrange for an assassination of William. He gave full
details of the supposed plot, and in order to give substance to his
statements, he hid, in a cabinet of my father's, a number of
compromising papers, professing to be letters from abroad.
"These were found by the officers sent to arrest my father. He and
his five friends managed to escape, but their estates were
forfeited. Of course, what we want to prove is the connection
between this spy and his employer, who, for his services in
bringing this supposed plot to light, received as a reward my
father's estates. There is no way of doing this, unless this man
can be brought to confess his own villainy in the matter of the
letters, and to denounce the scoundrel whose agent he was.
Probably, by this time, he has got nearly all he can expect from
his employer, and will at least feel no scruples in exposing him,
if by so doing he can save his own neck.
"Now, we have not only discovered the man, but have found out that
he is a notorious highwayman, and the leader of a gang; but more, I
have found out the day and hour on which he proposes to stop and
rob the North coach."
"Well, Mr. Carstairs, if you have done that," the man said, "you
have done marvels. That you should find the man might be a piece of
good luck, but that you should have learned all this about him
seems to me wonderful."
"It was a lucky accident, altogether. We saw him, watched him, and
managed to overhear a conversation from which we gathered these
facts. It was all simple enough. Of course, our idea is that we
should, if possible, catch him in the act of robbing the coach,
bind and take charge of him, saying that we should hand him over to
justice, when the coachman and passengers would, of course, appear
to testify against him. Instead of doing this, we should take him
somewhere, and then give him the option of either making a clean
breast of the whole story, and remaining in our custody until
called upon to testify to his statement in a court of justice,
whenever required; or of being handed over to the authorities, to
be tried and hung as a highwayman.
"One of our greatest difficulties is how to effect his capture. The
attack will be made at night on the coach, and in the darkness we
might shoot him, or he might get away. He is at present in London,
at a lodging in a street behind the Abbey, where, doubtless, his
real profession is altogether unsuspected by the people of the
house.
"Now you know the whole affair. Let us have your opinion as to the
manner in which we had best set about the business."
The man sat for some time, in silence.
"I can think of no better plan than yours, sir, and yet it seems to
me that there is scarcely any chance of your catching him at the
coach. Of course, it would be easy enough if you did not care
whether you killed or caught him. All you would have to do would be
to get half a dozen stout fellows, armed with pistols, on the coach
with you instead of passengers, and then you would be pretty
certain to kill some of them, perhaps all; but, as you can't do
that, and are afraid to shoot lest you should kill him, it seems to
me that you have a very small chance of catching him that way."
Charlie and his friend so thoroughly saw this, that they sat silent
when he ceased speaking.
"We could not arrest him now, I suppose?" Harry said at last.
"Well, you see, you have got nothing against him. He may have been
a Knight of the Road for the last five years, but you have no
witnesses to prove it, and it is not much use to accuse him of
intending to rob the North mail. You have no proofs, even of that.
It is only your word against his.
"There is no doubt that, after they have robbed the coach, they
will separate. They may go away in twos, or singly. Now, you see,
we know three of this fellow's hiding places. He would hardly
choose the one at Barnet. It is too close. It is more likely he
would choose the next place, the little inn in which you saw him
first; but I think it more likely still that he and his mates will
divide the plunder, half a mile or so from the place where they
stopped the coach, and will then separate, and I am inclined to
think his most likely course is to strike off from the main road,
make a long round, and come down before morning to where he is now.
He may take his horse into its stable, or, more likely, he may
leave it at some place he may know of on the road leading out
through Putney, and then arrive at his lodgings just about
daybreak. He would explain he had been at a supper, and had kept it
up all night, and no one would even have a suspicion he had been
engaged in the affair with the coach. I am sure that is his most
likely plan."
"Then, what would you do?" Harry asked.
"What I should do is this. I will get two sharp active boys. I know
of two who would just do, they have done jobs for us before now. I
will give them the exact description of those two taverns, and send
them down the day before the coach is to be attacked, and tell them
that, that night, they are each to keep watch over one of them, see
who goes in, watch till they come out, and then follow them, for
days if necessary, and track them down. Then they can send word up
by the guard of the coach, each day; so that, if we find our man
does not come back here by Saturday morning, we shall have news
that will put us on his track again, before long.
"However, I think he is sure to come back here. You had better
point out to me, this evening, where he lodges, and I shall be able
to find out, before long, whether they are respectable people, or
whether they are likely to be pals of his.
"If they are respectable, I will see them on Friday evening, show
them my badge, and tell them that the man who has been lodging here
is a notorious highwayman, and that I am going to arrest him. To
prevent any chance of a mistake, I will put three or four of my
mates round the house, to see that no one goes out to give him the
alarm. I will come down and open the door for you, at two o'clock
in the morning. You can then come up with me into his bedroom, and
as he comes in, I will nab him.
"If, on the other hand, I find the people of the house have a
doubtful reputation in the neighbourhood, we must simply hide in
doorways, make a rush upon him as he goes up to the house, and
overpower him there. If one stands in his doorway, and leaps out on
him as he comes up, he won't have much chance of using a pistol. I
will have a cart ready, close by. We will truss him up tightly, gag
him and put him into it, and I will have some place ready for us to
drive him to, if you think that plan is as good as any other."
"I think it is an excellent plan, and could not be better," Charlie
exclaimed, and his friend heartily agreed with him.
"I think you will be able to get anything out of him, when you get
him there," said the tipstaff. "He is sure to have some of the swag
about him, and, even if none of the passengers of the coach are
able to swear to him, that and the talk you overheard would be
sufficient to hang him."
"Can those boys you speak of write?"
"Not they, sir."
"There might be a difficulty about a verbal message."
"The guard will give it, all right, if he gets half a crown with
it. You need not trouble about that, sir. I will have a man to meet
each coach, as it comes in.
"And now we have arranged matters, sir, I will go with you to see
the house, and will send a sharp fellow down tomorrow, to make
inquiries about the people of the place."
When they returned, the friends sat for a long time, talking
together. The suggested plan looked so hopeful that they felt
confident of its success.
"I think, Charlie," Harry said, "it would be a good thing for us to
present ourselves to the Duke of Marlborough. Then we shall see if
he is disposed to take an interest in us, and help us. If he is, he
will tell us what had best be done towards getting Nicholson's
statement made in the presence of some sort of official who will
act on it. If he gives us the cold shoulder, we shall have to do as
best we can in some other direction, and it will be well to have
the matter settled, if possible, before we catch the fellow."
"I think that will be a very good plan, Harry. I know where he
lives. I inquired directly I came over. Tomorrow morning we can go
there and inquire, at the door, at what hour he receives callers."
The next day at eleven o'clock the young men, dressed in their best
attire, called at the duke's. They were informed that the great man
was at home, and would be as likely to see them then as at any
other hour. Accordingly they entered, and were shown into an
anteroom, and sent their names in by a footman. He returned with a
request that they would follow him, and were shown into a library,
where a singularly handsome man, in the prime of life, was sitting
at a desk. He looked at them in some surprise.
"Is there not some mistake, young gentlemen?" he asked. "My servant
gave the names as Captain Jervoise, and Captain Carstairs. I do not
recall the names as those of officers in her majesty's service."
"No, my lord, we have the honour to be captains in the service of
King Charles of Sweden, as this document, signed both by his
minister, Count Piper, and by the king himself, will testify."
The duke took the paper, and read it.
"The king of Sweden speaks very highly of you both, gentlemen," he
said cordially. "It is no mean credit to have gained such warm
praise from the greatest general of his time. What can I do for
you? Do you wish to be transferred from the service of Sweden to
that of her majesty? We have need of good officers, and I can
promise that you shall receive the same rank that you now hold, and
it is likely that, before long, you will have an opportunity of
seeing some service under your national flag."
"I thank you warmly for your kindness, my lord, but it is not with
that view that we have now come to you, though I am sure that we
both should prefer to fight under our own flag, rather than under
that of a foreign king, however kindly he may be disposed to us,
personally. We have called upon a private matter, and I am the
bearer of this letter from my father, who had once the honour of
your lordship's friendship."
"Jervoise," the duke repeated, as he took the letter. "Not Mat
Jervoise, surely?"
"That is my father's name, sir."
"Do I remember him? Why, he was one of my closest friends when I
was a lad, and I once stayed with him at his father's place, for a
fortnight, on a journey I took to the north. But I will read his
letter--
"What changes happen," he said, as he laid it down. "To think that
Mat Jervoise should be an exile, his old home in the hands of
strangers, and he a major in the Swedish service; and that I should
never have heard a word about it!
"Well, young sir," and he held out his hand to Harry, "I can
promise you my aid and protection, to the utmost, in whatever
matter you may be concerned. I seem to remember the name of your
companion, too."
"His father, Sir Marmaduke, was a neighbour of ours. There has
always been great friendship between the two families."
"Of course, I remember him now. He was some fifteen or twenty years
older than your father. I remember that I went over with your
father and grandfather, and dined at his place. He is still alive
and well, I hope?"
"He is both, sir," Charlie said; "but, like Major Jervoise, an
exile."
"You amaze me, but I will not ask you to tell me more, now. I have
to be at Saint James's at twelve.
"Let me see, this evening I shall be engaged. Come tomorrow
morning, at half past eight, and I shall then be able to give you
an hour, or maybe two, if necessary, and will then hear the whole
story fully."
The young men, on presenting themselves the next morning, at the
hour named, were at once ushered in.
"Now, let us lose no time," the duke said, after shaking hands
heartily. "Which of you will tell the story?"
"Carstairs will do so, my lord," Harry replied. "The mischief was
hatched in his house, and my father, and six other gentlemen, were
the victims of the treachery of a kinsman of his."
Charlie told the story of the events that had brought about the
ruin of his father and friends.
"It is monstrous!" the duke exclaimed indignantly, when he had
brought this part of his story to a conclusion. "That my old
friend, Mat Jervoise, should be concerned in a plot for
assassination, is, I would pledge my life, untrue; and Sir
Marmaduke Carstairs was, I know, an honourable gentleman, who would
be equally incapable of such an act. That they were both Jacobites,
I can well believe, for the Jacobites are strong everywhere in the
north, but, as half of us are or have been Jacobites, that can
scarcely be counted as an offence. At any rate, a Stuart is upon
the throne now, and, as long as she reigns, there is no fear that a
civil war will be set up by another of the race. The story, as you
have told it, sir, is, I doubt not for a moment, true, but at
present it is unsupported; and though, on my assurance of their
loyalty, I think I can promise that her majesty would extend a
pardon to the gentlemen who have been so unjustly accused, I fear
that she could not, by her own act, restore the estates that have
been confiscated, unless you can bring some proof that this fellow
you speak of was suborned to get up false evidence against them."
"That, sir, is what I shall have the honour to inform you now."
And Charlie then related the story of their quest for the man
Nicholson, and its result.
"Rarely devised and carried out," the duke said warmly. "Do you lay
the knave by the heels, and frighten him into confessing the truth,
and I will see to the rest of the matter. I do not know that I
ought to let the North coach be robbed, after the information you
have given me, but, as we will hunt down all the other fellows, and
shall probably recover the booty they carry off, the passengers
will have no reason to grumble.
"Well, young sirs, the king of Sweden has given you a testimonial
as to your bravery and conduct. If necessary, I will give you one
for your ingenuity in planning and carrying out a difficult scheme.
"So you have both been with the Swedes through their campaign
against the Russians and Poles. I envy you. King Charles' service
is a grand school for soldiers, and that victory of Narva is the
most extraordinary one ever seen. Had you the honour of any
personal intercourse with the king?"
"Only during three days, when our company formed part of his escort
at a hunting expedition," Harry, whom he addressed, replied. "But
Carstairs spoke to him more frequently. He has been a captain
nearly two years, while I only had my promotion two months ago. We
were in the same regiment, and of the same rank, but Carstairs was
promoted by the king, after the battle at the passage of the Dwina,
as a reward for the suggestion he made in conversation with him,
that the passage might be made under the screen of smoke caused by
the lighting of the forage stacks."
"I must have a long talk with you both. It is certain that, next
spring, the campaign with France will re-open, and your experience
in the field will be very useful to me. The Swedes are wonderful
soldiers. The Muscovites, at present, are little better than
barbarians carrying European arms, but the Saxons are good troops,
and the Swedes have twice beaten them heavily, and they evidently
retain the fighting qualities that, under Gustavus Adolphus, shook
the imperial power to its centre.
"The trouble is to find time. I am pestered with men desirous of
employment in the army, with persons who want favours at court,
with politicians of both parties, with people with schemes and
intrigues of all kinds. I have to be in attendance at the palace,
and to see into the whole details of the organization of the army.
I have no doubt that, at present, my antechamber is crowded with
people who want to see me."
He looked at his tablets.
"Next Wednesday evening I am free, except for a reception at Lord
Godolphin's, but I can look in there late. I will not ask you here,
because I want you to myself. I will have a private room at
Parker's coffee house in Covent Garden. We will sup at seven. When
you go there, ask for Mr. Church's room, and make yourself
comfortable there until I come, for I can never answer for my own
hours. In that way, we shall be free from all chance of
interruption, and I can pick your brains undisturbed. You will
remember the day and hour. Should there be any change in this
private matter of yours, do not hesitate to come to me here."
Tony Peters, their guide and adviser, reported favourably as to the
people with whom the highwayman was lodging.
"The house is kept by the widow of an usher at the palace. She
entertains gentlemen from the country, who come up on business at
the courts of justice, or with people of influence at court. I have
ascertained that our man passes as a well-to-do trader of
Salisbury, who comes up, two or three times a year, to transact
business, and to enjoy for a short time the pleasures of town. He
is liberal in his payments, and is held in high respect by the
woman, whose only objection to him, as a lodger, is the late hours
he keeps. He is a crafty fellow this, for by always going to the
same house, and comporting himself with moderation, he secures a
place of retirement, where, however close the quest after him,
there will be no suspicion whatever, as to his profession, on the
part of the people he is with.
"My man found out all these matters from the servant wench. We
shall have no difficulty in taking him quietly. The woman will be
so terrified, when I tell her what he is wanted for, that she will
do anything rather than have a scandal that would damage the
reputation of the house."
He assured Charlie that he need give the matter no further thought.
All the arrangements would be made, and, unless he heard farther
from him, he and Harry would only have to present themselves, at
the door of the house in question, at two o'clock on the morning of
Saturday.
The evening with the duke passed off pleasantly. The general's
questions turned, not so much upon the actual fighting, as upon the
organization of the Swedes, their methods of campaigning, of
victualling the army, of hutting themselves in winter, the
maintenance of discipline in camp, and other military points that
would be of service to him in his next campaign.
"Your king is very wise, in so strictly repressing all plundering
and violence," he said. "Only so can a general maintain an army in
an enemy's country. If the peasantry have confidence in him, and
know that they will get a fair price for their produce, they will
bring it into the market gladly, in spite of any orders their own
government may issue to the contrary. I am determined that, if I
again lead an English army in the field, I will follow King
Charles' example; though I shall find it more difficult to enforce
my orders than he does, for he is king as well as general, and his
Swedes are quiet, honest fellows, while my army will be composed of
ne'er-do-wells--of men who prefer to wear the queen's uniform to a
prison garment, of debtors who wish to escape their creditors, and
of men who find village life too quiet for them, and prefer to see
the world, even at the risk of being shot, to honest labour on the
farms. It requires a stern hand to make a disciplined army out of
such materials, but when the time of fighting comes, one need wish
for no better."
Before parting with them, the duke inquired farther into their
arrangements for the arrest of the highwayman, and said he should
expect to see them on Saturday, and that, if he heard that all had
gone well, he would at once take steps for bringing the matter
before a court that would deal with it.
The young men felt restless, as the day approached. They had seen
no more of Tony, but they felt complete confidence in him, and were
sure that they would hear if any difficulties arose; but though,
throughout Friday, they did not quit their lodging, no message
reached them.