"'of telling you that the second of my tasks is now accomplished--to
wit, that of making Sir Harry Raikes a laughing-stock.'"

"What?" I cried.

"Listen," says Jack.

"'Whether a gentleman riding abroad in naught but his hat and shirt
is a sufficiently laughable matter, or an object of derision,
depends altogether upon the point of view, and I must leave your
friends, namely, Sir Richard Eden and Mr. Bentley, to decide. There
remains now but one more undertaking, that of putting you
all--together and at the same time--at a disadvantage, which I shall
confidently hope to perform so soon as Dame Fortune will permit.

"'I am returning their pistols to Sir Richard Eden and Mr. Bentley
to-night.

"'Trusting that you and yours are blooming in all health, I beg to
subscribe myself,

"'Your most obedient, humble servant to command,

"'HORATIO TAWNISH.'"

"Tawnish?" says I.

"Tawnish," says Bentley.

"Tawnish!" says Jack. "Devil take him!"

"By heaven!" says I, remembering the grim, determined figure of the
highwayman, "by heaven, he has a man's body beneath his silks and laces
after all."

"Egad!" says Jack, sourly, "I almost think you love the fellow."

"On my soul!" says I, "I almost think I do."

CHAPTER SIX

_Of the Dawning of Christmas Day_

In most lives (as I suppose) there is a time which, looming ahead of us
dark and sombre, fills us with a direful expectancy and a thousand
boding fears, so that with every dawn we thank God that it is not yet.
Still, the respite thus allowed brings us little ease, for the knowledge
of its coming haunts us through the day and night, creeping upon us
nearer and nearer with every tick of the clock, until the last chime has
rung--until the sand is all run down in the glass, and we are left face
to face with our destiny to front it as we may.

Christmas Day was dawning. From my window I had watched the first pale
light gather little by little beyond the distant trees, until the whole
dismal scene had come into view.

It had snowed all night, and now everything showed beneath a white
burden that, as I watched, seemed horribly suggestive of shrouds; so I
turned from the casement with a shiver, and drawing the curtains, sat
down before the fire (which I had mended during the night), dejected in
mind, and heavy with lack of sleep. Somewhere f