"Sergeant Zebedee, what do you mean?"

"A gobling, mam--a ghost as vanished itself away into your garden, my lady--we both see same and his honour followed it."

"Into--my garden?" she questioned quick-breathing, her eyes very bright, her slender hand tight-clenched upon her riding-switch.

"Aye mam, your garden. Since when he's been witched and spell-bound, d'ye see."

"How--how?"

"Why, a tramp--tramping in his study all night long and groaning to himself--right mournful, mam."

"Groaning?"

"And likewise a-sighing--very dismal. And this morning I took the liberty of observing him unbeknownst--through the window, d'ye see--me not having had a wink o' sleep either--and when he lifted his head----"

"Well?" she said faintly.

"'Twas like--like death in life, mam."

My lady's head was bowed but the Sergeant saw that the hand grasping the whip was trembling and when she spoke her voice was unsteady also:

"I--I'm glad you--told me, Sergeant. I--O I must see him! Get him home again--into the orchard. I--must speak with him--soon!"

"But mam, he's set on riding to Inchbourne--means to look over the cottages as Jennings has let go to rack and ruin, and when he's set on doing a thing he'll--do it."

"He ran away at sight of me, Sergeant?"

"He did so, mam, by reason of the black art and----"

"And he shall run away again--I'll ride to Inchbourne ahead of you and frighten him back home----"

"Zounds!" exclaimed the Sergeant.

"And when he reaches home contrive to get him into the orchard----"

"Zooks!" exclaimed the Sergeant.

Here Mr. Dalroyd, who had been chatting with the Marquis hard by but with his gaze ever upon my lady's lissom figure, urged his horse up to them.

"The Major would seem in a hurry this morning," said he, smiling down into my lady's pensive face, "or is it that his horse bolted with him?"

The Sergeant snorted but, before he could speak, Lady Betty's gloved hand was upon his arm.

"Sergeant Zebedee," said she gently, "I--trust to you and you won't fail me, I know!" Then, smiling a little wistfully she turned and rode away between her two cavaliers.

"Now all I says is," said the Sergeant, rasping his fingers across his big, smooth-shaven chin, "all I says is that look o' hers has drove the word 'fail' clean off the field wi' no chance o' rallying. All I asks is--How?" Having questioned himself thus and found no answer, he presently set off in pursuit of the Major, as fast as his stout cob would carry him.

The Major sat his fretting mare beneath the shadow of trees, but despite this shade he looked hot and uncomfortable.

"You've been the deuce of a while, Zebedee," said he, fidgeting in his saddle.

"No help for it, your honour," answered the Sergeant, saluting, "her ladyship having halted me, d'ye see."

"Ha--what did she say, Zeb?"

"Demanded wherefore you bolted, sir."

"And--what did you tell her?"

"Explained as 'twere all on account o' witchcraft and sorcery d.a.m.ned, sir."

"Then be d.a.m.ned for a fool, Zebedee!" The Sergeant immediately saluted. "Then--er--what did she say?"

"Stared, sir, and cross-examinationed me concerning same, and I dooly explained as you did see a apparation in form of the devil--no, a devil in form of a----" The Major uttered an impatient e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and rode on again. And after they had ridden some distance in silence the Sergeant spoke.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but you're wrong!"

"I think not, Zeb,'" sighed the Major, "'tis for the best."

"But sir, 'tis the wrong way to----"

"On the contrary 'tis the only way, Zeb, the only way to save her pain and vexation. I couldn't bear to see her shrink--er--ha, what a plague are you saying now, in the fiend's name, Sergeant?"

"Why sir, I only--"

"Be silent, Zebedee!"

"Very good, your honour, only this be the wrong way to Inchbourne."

"Egad!" exclaimed the Major, staring. "Now you mention it, Zeb, so 'tis!" And wheeling his horse forthwith, the Major galloped back to the cross-roads. Being come thither he halted to glance swiftly about and seemed much relieved to find no one in sight.

"Zebedee," said he suddenly as they rode on, knee to knee, "tis in my mind to go a-travelling again."

"Thought and hoped our travelling days was done, sir."

"Aye, so did I, Zeb, so did I--but," the Major sighed wearily, "none the less I'm minded to go campaigning again, leaving you here to--er--look after things for me, as 'twere, Zeb."

"Can't and couldn't be, your honour! You go and me stay? Axing your pardon, sir--Zounds, no!"

"Why not, pray?"

"Well first, sir, what would your honour do without me?"

"Truly I should--miss you, Zeb----"

"So you would, sir, so why think of going? Secondly, here's me been hoping--ah, hoping right fervent as you'd bring it off, sir, wi'

colours flying and drums a-beating as gay as gay."