ouse; so, when dinner was over, and the servants had
changed into Mr. Kirke's old suits, and the merlin had been borrowed from
the Rectory for a week's hawking, the horses were brought round and the
party mounted.

Mr. Kirke and Anthony had spent a long morning together discussing the
route, and it had been decided that it would be best to keep along the
high ridge due west until they were a little beyond Kemsing, which they
would be able to see below them in the valley; and then to strike across
between that village and Otford, and keeping almost due south ride up
through Knole Park; then straight down on the other side into the Weald,
and so past Tonbridge home.

Mr. Kirke himself insisted on accompanying them on his cob until he had
seen them clear of the woods on the high ground. Both he and his wife
were full of gratitude to Anthony for the risk and trouble he had
undergone, and did their utmost to provide them with all that was
necessary for their disguise. At last, about two o'clock, the five men
and Isabel rode out of the little yard at the back of the Manor Lodge and
plunged into the woods again.

The afternoon hush rested on the country as they followed Mr. Kirke along
a narrow seldom-used path that led almost straight to the point where it
was decided that they should strike south. In half a dozen places it cut
across lanes, and once across the great high road from Farningham to
Wrotham. As they drew near this, Mr. Kirke, who was riding in front,
checked them.

"I will go first," he said, "and see if there is danger."

In a minute he returned.

"There is a man about a hundred yards up the road asleep on a bank; and
there is a cart coming up from Wrotham: that is all I can see. Perhaps we
had better wait till the cart is gone."

"And what is the man like?" asked Anthony.

"He is a beggar, I should say; but has his hat over his eyes."

They waited till the cart had passed. Anthony dismounted and went to the
entrance of the path and peered out at the man; he was lying, as Mr.
Kirke had said, with his hat over his eyes, perfectly still. Anthony
examined him a minute or two; he was in tattered clothes, and a great
stick and a bundle lay beside him.

"It is a vagabond," he said, "we can go on."

The whole party crossed the road, pushing on towards the edge of the high
downs over Kemsing; and presently came to the Ightam road where it began
to run steeply down hill; here, too, Mr. Kirke looked this way