to take his word for it? And you have let the real
one slip through your fingers.

"Ha, ha, Sledge Hammer George! you are not quite so clever as you
thought. Why did you not wring the truth out of him, when the other
quarry could not have been far off? You have been pretty gulls to
have been taken in like this!"

The other man, who had now come up, looked full into Paul's face,
and asked, not savagely though sternly enough:

"Which are you, lad? speak the truth. Are you the Prince of Wales,
or not?"

It was useless now to attempt to keep up the deception. Paul
carried the mark of Simon Dowsett's bullet in his shoulder, and he
was too well known by him to play a part longer. Looking full at
the man who addressed him, he answered boldly:

"I am Paul Stukely, not the prince at all. He is beyond the reach
of your malice. He is in safe shelter now."

"Where is he?" asked the man quietly.

"I shall not tell you," answered Paul, who knew that these robbers
were so daring that they might even make a raid on the Priory, or
watch it night and day, and to prevent the escape of the prince
from thence, if their suspicions were once attracted, to the spot.

Sledge Hammer George laid a hand upon the young man's arm.

"Now don't be a fool, lad; these fellows here will stand no more
from you. A valuable prize has escaped them, and they will wring
the truth out of you by means you will not like, but will not be
able to resist. You have a bitter enemy in Devil's Own, as he is
called, and he will not spare you if you provoke. I will stand your
friend, if you will but speak out and tell us where the prince is
to be found; for he cannot be very many miles away from this place,
as we are well assured. If you are obstinate, I can do nothing for
you, and you will have to take your chance.

"Come, now, speak up. Every moment is of value. You will be made to
do so before long, whether you wish or not."

Paul's lips closed tightly one over the other, and his hands
clasped themselves fast together. He thought of the vow he had
registered long years ago in his heart, to live or to die in the
service of his prince; and though what he might be called upon to
suffer might be far worse than death itself, his will stood firm,
and he gave no sign of yielding. The man, who would have stood his
friend if he would have spoken, looked keenly at him, and then
turned away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, and Simon's
triumphant and malicious