At half-past nine, next morning, the stranger sat in the front room of the cottage vacated by the Lewarnes. On a rough table, pushed into a corner, lay the remains of his breakfast. A plum-coloured coat with silver buttons hung over the back of a chair by his side, and a waist-coat and silver-laced hat to match rested on the seat. For the wedding was to take place in an hour and a half.

He sat in frilled shirt, knee-breeches and stockings, and the sunlight streamed in upon his dark head as he stooped to pull on a shoe. The sound of his whistling filled the room, and the tune was, “Soldier, soldier, will you marry me?”

His foot was thrust into the first shoe, and his forefinger inserted at the heel, shoe-horn fashion, to slip it on, when the noise of light wheels sounded on the road outside, and stopped beside the gate. Looking up, he saw through the window the head and shoulders of Young Zeb’s grey mare, and broke off his whistling sharply.

Rat-a-tat!

“Come in!” he called, and smiled softly to himself.

The door was pushed open, and Young Zeb stood on the threshold, looking down on the stranger, who wheeled round quietly on his chair to face him. Zeb’s clothes were disordered, and looked as if he had spent the night in them; his face was yellow and drawn, with dark semicircles underneath the eyes; and he put a hand up against the door-post for support.

“To what do I owe this honour?” asked the stranger, gazing back at him.

Zeb pulled out a great turnip-watch from his fob, and said—

“You’m dressin?”

“Ay, for the wedding.”

“Then look sharp. You’ve got a bare five-an’-twenty minnits.”

“Excuse me, I’m not to be married till eleven.”

“Iss, iss, but they’re comin’ at ten, sharp.”

“And who in the world may ‘they’ be?”

“The press-gang.”

The stranger sprang up to his feet, and seemed for a moment about to fly at Zeb’s throat.

“You treacherous hound!”

“Stand off,” said Zeb wearily, without taking his hand from the door-post. “I reckon it don’t matter what I may be, or may not be, so long as you’m dressed i’ ten minnits.”

The other dropped his hands, with a short laugh.

“I beg your pardon. For aught I know you may have nothing to do with this infernal plot except to warn me against it.”

“Don’t make any mistake. ’Twas I that set the press-gang upon ‘ee,” answered Zeb, in the same dull tones.

There was silence between them for half a minute, and then the stranger spoke, as if to himself—

“My God! Love has made this oaf a man!” He stood for a while, sucking at his under-lip, and regarding Zeb gloomily. “May I ask why you have deliberately blown up this pretty mine at the eleventh hour?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Zeb groaned; “Lord knows ’twas not for love of you, but I couldn’t.”

“Upon my word, you fascinate me. People say that evil is more easily learnt than goodness; but that’s great nonsense. The footsteps of the average beginner are equally weak in both pursuits. Would you mind telling me why you chose this particular form of treachery, in preference (let us say) to poison or shooting from behind a hedge? Was it simply because you risked less? Pardon the question, but I have a particular reason for knowing.”

“We’re wastin’ time,” said Zeb, pulling out his watch again.

“It’s extraordinary how a fool will stumble on good luck. Why, sir, but for one little accident, the existence of which you could not possibly have known, I might easily have waited for the press-gang, stated the case to them, and had you lugged off to sea in my place. Has it occurred to you, in the course of your negotiations, that the wicked occasionally stumble into pits of their own digging? You, who take part in the psalm-singing every Sunday, might surely have remembered this. As it is, I suppose I must hurry on my clothes, and get to church by some roundabout way.”

“I’m afeard you can’t, without my help.”

“Indeed? Why?”

“‘Cause the gang is posted all round ‘ee. I met the lot half an hour back, an’ promised to call ‘pon you and bring word you was here.”

“Come, come; I retract my sneers. You begin to excite my admiration. I shall undoubtedly shoot you before I’m taken, but it shall be your comfort to die amid expressions of esteem.”

“You’m mistaken. I came to save ‘ee, if you’ll be quick.”

“How?”

“I’ve a load of ore-weed outside, in the cart. By the lie o’ the cottage none can spy ye while you slip underneath it; but I’ll fetch a glance round, to make sure. Underneath it you’ll be safe, and I’ll drive ‘ee past the sailors, and send ’em on here to search.”

“You develop apace. But perhaps you’ll admit a flaw in your scheme. What on earth induced you to imagine I should trust you?”

“Man, I reckoned all that. My word’s naught. But ’tis your one chance—and I would kneel to ‘ee, if by kneelin’ I could persuade ‘ee. We’ll fight it out after; bring your pistols. Only come!”

The stranger slipped on his other shoe, then his waistcoat and jacket, whistling softly. Then he stepped to the chimney-piece, took down his pistols, and stowed them in his coat-pockets.

“I’m quite ready.”

Zeb heaved a great sigh like a sob; but only said:—

“Wait a second while I see that the coast’s clear.”

In less than three minutes the stranger was packed under the evil-smelling weed, drawing breath with difficulty, and listening, when the jolting allowed, to Zeb’s voice as he encouraged the mare. Jowters’ carts travel fast as a rule, for their load perishes soon, and the distance from the coast to the market is often considerable. In this case Jessamy went at a round gallop, the loose stones flying from under her hoofs. Now and then one struck up against the bottom of the cart. It was hardly pleasant to be rattled at this rate, Heaven knew whither. But the stranger had chosen his course, and was not the man to change his mind.

After about five minutes of this the cart was pulled up with a scramble, and he heard a voice call out, as it seemed, from the hedge—

“Well?”

“Right you are,” answered Young Zeb;

“He’s in the front room, pullin’ on his boots. You’d best look slippy.”

“Where’s the coin?”

“There!” The stranger heard the click of money, as of a purse being caught. “You’ll find it all right.”

“H’m; best let me count it, though. One—two—three—four. I feels it my dooty to tell ye, young man, that it be a dirty trick. If this didn’t chime in wi’ my goodwill towards his Majesty’s service, be danged if I’d touch the job with a pair o’ tongs!”

“Ay—but I reckon you’ll do’t, all the same, for t’other half that’s to come when you’ve got en safe an’ sound. Dirty hands make clean money.”

“Well, well; ye’ve been dirtily sarved. I’ll see ‘ee this arternoon at the ‘Four Lords.’ We’ve orders to sail at five, sharp; so there’s no time to waste.”

“Then I won’t detain ‘ee. Clk, Jessamy!”

The jolting began again, more furiously than ever, as the stranger drew a long breath. He waited till he judged they must be out of sight, and then began to stir beneath his load of weed.

“Keep quiet,” said Zeb; “you shall get out as soon as we’re up the hill.”

The cart began to move more slowly, and tilted back with a slant that sent the stranger’s heels against the tail-board. Zeb jumped down and trudged at the side. The hill was long, and steep ............