"Oh! ye-e-s," a.s.sented Gregory, in a thoughtful drawl. "I've heerd speak o' most on 'em; an' I dar say most o' 'em's heerd speak o' me."

"Could you deliver letters to H--L--, to Sir K. F--, to young M--, son of Lord S., to R--M--, of Cheveley Park, and to Master G. C., a magistrate of the borough of High Wycombe?"

The cavalier, in putting this question, gave the names in full.

"Well," replied the ex-footpad, "I dare say I kud deliver letters to all the gents you've made mention o'--that be in the order as you've named 'em. But if I war to begin whar you've left off, then I shud be obligated to leave off, just whar I hed begun."

"What! I don't understand you, Gregory."

"Why, it be simple enough, Master Henry. War I to carry a letter to that old pot-guts Justice o' High Wycombe, 'taint likely I shud bring back the answer,--much less get leave to go on to the tothers, as you've named."

"How's that, Garth?"

"Kase ye see Old Wyk an' hae _had a leetlish bit o' a quarrel_--oncest on a time; an' if he war to see me agin, he might remember that ere diff'rence atween us, an' _jug_ me. I'll take yer letters to the tothers; an' him last o' all, if ye insist on't; but if ye do, Master Henry, I won't promise to bring back any answers."

"Never mind _him_, then," said the cavalier, appearing to give up the idea of communicating with the Wycombe Justice. "You can safely visit _all_ the others, I suppose?"

Gregory nodded a.s.sent.

"You must start at once. Ah! I did not think of it; you will stand in need of a horse?"

"No, I woant," replied the footpad, with a significant smile, "I've got one."

"Oh! the horse you--"

The cavalier hesitated to finish the speech that had risen to his tongue.

"Why, ye-e-s," drawled the ex-footpad, "it's a anymal as has done the King sarvice; an' I doant see why it shudn't now be employed in the sarvice o' the People. If I be allowed to ha' my guess, Master Henry, I shud say, that's the errand on which ye be sendin' me."

"It is," a.s.sented the cavalier, with emphasis.

"I am glad o' 't," exclaimed Garth, in a tone that betrayed a certain degree of enthusiasm. "Write yer letters, Master Henry; I'll take 'em whar they're directed--even if one o' 'em be to _the jailer_ o'

_Newgate_!"

The cavalier, gratified by this ebullition, turned smilingly to the table, and commenced preparing the epistles.

In less than an hour the ex-footpad was transformed into a postman; and, mounted upon the stolen steed of the King's courier, was making his way along the main road that runs between the city of London and the city of Colleges.

At his departure the Indian attendant was called into the room.

"Oriole!" asked the cavalier. "Do you think you can find the way to the cottage of d.i.c.k Dancey--the woodman who comes here so frequently? You have been over to his wigwam, haven't you?"

The Indian made a sign of a.s.sent.

"You know the way, then? The moon is still shining. I think you will have no difficulty in finding the place--although there's not a very clear path to it."

Oriole's only rejoinder to this was a slight scornful curling of the lip, as much as to say, "Does the pale-face fancy that I am like one of his own race--a fool to lose my way in a forest?"

"All right, my red-skin!" continued the cavalier, in a jocular strain, "I see you can find the road to Dancey's. But I want you to go beyond.

In the same direction, only half a mile farther on, there is another hut inhabited by another woodman. You have seen him here also--the young man with the hay-coloured hair, and white eyebrows?"

Oriole signified that he had seen the individual; though a certain expression--just discernible in the Indian's eye--betokened repugnance to the person so described.

"Very well," continued the cavalier, without appearing to notice the expression. "I want both Dancey and the light-haired man to come to me--so soon as you can summon them. Go to Dancey's first; and, if you think you cannot find the other, Dancey will go along with you. Tell both to come prepared for a journey of two days. What a pity you can't talk, my poor fellow! But no matter for that: Dancey will understand your signs."

The Indian, as if he either did not hear, or heeded not, this expression of sympathy, turned towards the door; and without either sign or ceremony made his spectral-like departure.

"The night of the 29th," soliloquised Henry Holtspur, as he sate once more pen in hand before his writing-table. "Not much time have they given me. d.i.c.k and his prospective son-in-law must start at once.

By-the-way, I don't know whether it's safe to trust this Walford--though the old deer-stalker believes in him. I'm always suspicions of white eyebrows. I've noticed something in his grey green eyes I don't like; and this very day--after I had espoused the quarrel of his sweetheart too--I saw him looking at me with glances not altogether grateful!

Jealous, perhaps, of the girl having given me those flowers? Ah! if he only knew how little her token was cared for, alongside that other token--if he knew how I myself was suffering--perhaps 'twould cure him of his spleen?

"After all he's but a brutal fellow--far from worthy of being the favourite of this bold forest bird, Bet Dancey. I'faith she's a hen-hawk, that deserves an eagle for her mate; and I might have given this rough rustic cause to be uncomfortable, but that his black beauty is eclipsed under the glare of that dazzling sunbeam. Ah! Marion!

Marion! in thy presence--or absence either--all other faces seem ill-favoured. Charming, or ugly, to my eyes all are alike!

"Come!" continued the cavalier, as the train of his reflections was interrupted by some thought prompting him to the necessity of action.

"I must get these letters ready against the arrival of my messengers.

There are a dozen, and I'm but an indifferent scribe. Luckily, as they're only 'notes of invitation,' a word to each will be sufficient."

Saying this, he drew his chair nearer to the table; and proceeded to pen the epistles.

He did not desist from his task, until some ten or twelve letters-- sealed and addressed to various individuals, all gentlemen of the county--lay on the table before him.

"These, I think, are all," muttered he, as he ran his eye over the addresses. "Along with those, whom Garth has gone to summon, a goodly array they will make--all true friends to the cause of England's liberty!"

This soliloquy was succeeded by the entrance of the Indian--whose dark form came stealing like a shadow under the light of the lamp.

By a pantomimic gesture, his master was told--that the two men, he had gone to fetch, had arrived along with him, and were waiting orders outside.

"Send them in here," commanded the cavalier. "One at a time. First, Dancey; the other, after Dancey has gone out."

Oriole instantly vanished; and soon after the tread of a heavily-shod foot was heard in the hall, outside.

There was a single knock, followed by the spoken permission to "Come in."

The door opened; and the noted deer-stealer stepped into the apartment.

He was a man of immense body and large limbs, somewhat loosely put together; but from sheer size seemingly endowed with herculean strength.

About his face there was nothing to indicate any evil disposition. On the contrary, it had a cheerful honest look; which rather contradicted the character implied by the appellation of _deer-stealer_. As with his representative of modern days--the poacher--perhaps the stealing of a deer as the snaring of a pheasant, could scarce have been looked upon in the light of a positive theft. At all events, d.i.c.k Dancey, who was notorious in this line, was otherwise well regarded by those who had dealings with him.

He was no ordinary man--either in physical or mental conformation; and his huge muscular form, crowned by a capacious head--in which glanced a pair of dark brown eyes keen as an eagle's--gave him an imposing, if not a fearful, aspect. He was dressed in a doublet of faded cotton velveteen, with trunks of coa.r.s.er material reaching down to mid thigh.

From the bottoms of these to the tops of his heavy cow-skin boots, his limbs were protected by thick woollen hose; while on his head appeared a full-crowned cap made out of the skin of a spotted dog, the long hair ruffing out around the rim.

The accoutrements of this formidable forester were of the simplest. A skin wallet, suspended by a belt pa.s.sing over his shoulders, hung by his right side; while as if to balance it, a heavy hanger--half-sword, half-knife--dangled against his left hip. A large knotted stick, carried in hand, completed his equipment for the journey--of the nature of which he seemed to have had some previous acquaintance.

"Dancey!" said the cavalier, as soon as the deer-stealer was fairly inside the room, "I want you upon a matter of business. You are an accomplished traveller, I know. Have you any objection to play errand-boy for a couple of days?"

"To carry any message for you, sir," rejoined the woodman, with a grotesque effort at a bow, "I'd esteem an honour, 'specially after what happened this day, sir; or I moat say yesterday--seein' it be now near the morrow mornin'. My daughter, sir--I can answer for Bet--she's a good-hearted gurl, sir, though may be a little too forrard, or that sort; but she be wonderful obleeged, sir, to you, sir."