gle of the white road,
Trenchard made his way back to Wilding to tell him what he had seen and
to lay before him, for his enucleation, the problem of Blake's being the
leader of it. But Wilding thought little of Blake, and cared little of
what he might be the leader.

"We'll stay here," said he, "until they have passed the crest of the
hill."

This, Trenchard told him, was his own purpose; for to leave their
concealment earlier would be to reveal themselves to any of the troopers
who might happen to glance over his shoulder.

And so they waited some ten minutes or so, and then walked their horses
slowly and carefully forward through the trees towards the road. Wilding
was alongside and slightly ahead of Trenchard; Vallancey followed close
upon their tails. Suddenly, as Wilding was about to put his mare at the
low stone wall, Trenchard leaned forward and caught his bridle.

"Ss!" he hissed. "Horses!"

And now that they halted they heard the hoofbeats clear and close at
hand; the crackling of undergrowth and the rustle of the leaves through
which they had thrust their passage had deafened their ears to other
sounds until this moment. They checked and waited where they stood,
barely screened by the few boughs that still might intervene between
them and the open, not daring to advance, and not daring to retreat
lest their movements should draw attention to themselves. They remained
absolutely still, scarcely breathing, their only hope being that if
these who came should chance to be enemies they might ride on without
looking to right or left. It was so slender a hope that Wilding looked
to the priming of his pistols, whilst Trenchard, who had none, loosened
his sword in its scabbard. Nearer came the riders.

"There are not more than three," whispered Trenchard, who had been
listening intently, and Mr. Wilding nodded, but said nothing.

Another moment and the little party was abreast of those watchers; a
dark brown riding-habit flashed into their line of vision, and a
blue one laced with gold. At sight of the first Mr. Wilding's eyelids
flickered; he had recognized it for Ruth's, with whom rode Diana,
whilst some twenty paces or so behind came Jerry, the groom. They were
returning to Bridgwater.

They came along, looking neither to right nor to left, as the three men
had hoped they would, and they were all but past, when suddenly Wilding
gave his roan a touch of the spur and bounded forward. Diana's horse
swerved s