glimpse of the old eight-day clock which
stood in a corner of the room behind the bar. Perceiving that I was
looking at something, the landlord turned also, but had hardly done so
when the face disappeared.

We waited for a moment, expecting that the stranger would enter the
inn; then, as he did not appear, Judson strolled outside to see what
the man wanted. I waited some time, and at length the landlord
returned.

"You saw that fellow outside, didn't you, sir?" he asked. "Well, it's
curious I can't see no trace of him anywhere. He looked rather a rough
customer. I wonder what he wanted."

We had little time for speculation, for hardly had my companion
finished speaking when the cheerful note of the horn gave warning that
the coach was approaching; and the quiet little inn woke up at once
with an unwonted show of life and bustle.

Great was my delight, as the guard of the coach entered the room, to
recognize our old friend George Woodley, who, I afterwards discovered,
had been changed from the _Regulator_ to the _True Blue_; and in a few
words I explained to him the situation in which I was placed.

"Oh, very well, sir," he answered, "come along; there's a seat outside,
and we'll look after you all right."

I followed him down the passage and outside, where the fresh horses
were just being put to--the glaring lamps of the coach sending forth
rays of light into the darkness ahead, which seemed to make it all the
more intense, though stars twinkled overhead. As we stepped into the
road we were greeted with a roar of men's voices singing, without much
regard to tune or time. The sound came from the outside passengers,
who seemed to be diverting themselves with a sort of rough taproom
chorus. I remember noticing that the usual pile of luggage on the roof
was missing, and to my surprise the box-seat by the side of the
coachman was vacant. Into this lofty perch it was that I now climbed;
and as the driver gathered up his reins, on the point of starting, an
incident happened which caught my attention. A man emerged from the
deep shadow of the hedge at the roadside, and springing lightly on to
the near front wheel, said in a hoarse whisper,--

"Is that you, Ned? Good-bye, old man! Here, shake hands.
Good-bye--God bless you!"

There followed a sharp metallic jingle, which caused me to turn my
head; and then it was that, for the first time, I became aware of the
fact that the men behind me were all fettered.