so
constantly harassed that dynasty. Sir Hugh of course was a prime mover
of the conspiracy, and was much in London and elsewhere gathering
intelligence, raising funds, and making converts to his opinions. Ned
Meredith, having, it is to be presumed, all his energies occupied in
his own private intrigues, had somewhat withdrawn of late from the
Jacobite party; and Sir Hugh heard, with his grim, unmoved smile, many
a jest and innuendo levelled at the absentee.

One stormy winter's evening the baronet, well armed, cloaked, and booted,
left his own house for the metropolis, accompanied by one trusty servant.
He was bearing papers of importance, and was hurrying on to lay them with
the greatest dispatch before his fellow-conspirators. As night was
drawing on, Sir Hugh's horse shied away from a wild figure, looming like
some spectre in the fading light; and ere he had forced the animal back
into the path, his bridle was caught by a half-naked lad, whom the rider
at once recognized as an emissary he had often before employed to be the
bearer of secret intelligence, and who, under an affectation of being
half-witted, concealed much shrewdness of observation and unimpeachable
fidelity to the cause.

"Whip and spur, Sir Hugh--whip and spur," said the lad, who seemed
flustered and confused with drink; "you may burst your best horse
betwixt this and London, and all to get there before you're wanted. A
dollar to drink, Sir Hugh, like handsome Ned gave me this morning--a
dollar to drink, and I'll save you a journey for the sake of the
'Bonny White Rose' and the 'Bird with the Yellow Bill.'"

Sir Hugh scrutinized the lad with a piercing eye, flung him a crown
from his purse, and bid him "out with what he had to say, for that he
himself was hurried, and must push on to further the good cause." The
lad was sobered in an instant.

"Look ye here, Sir Hugh," he said eagerly; "handsome Ned went down the
road at a gallop this morning. There's something brewing in London,
you may trust me, Sir Hugh, and I tried to stop him to learn his
errand; but he tossed me a crown and galloped on. He took the Hill
road, Sir Hugh, and you came up the Vale; but he's bound for
Dangerfield, I know, and mayhap he's got papers that will save your
journey to London. No offence, Sir Hugh," added the lad, for the
baronet's face was black as midnight.

"None, my good boy," was the reply in a hoarse, thick voice. "Hold,
there's another crown for you--drink it