‘Are you sure,’ Sir George asked eagerly, ’that no one of the four was a woman?’

The smith grinned.  ‘How am I to know?’ he answered with a chuckle.  ’That’s none of my business.  All I can say is, they were all dressed man fashion.  And they all went willing, for they went one by one, as you may say.’

‘Two on foot?’

’By the lane there.  I never said no otherwise.  Seemingly they were the two on the carriage.’

‘And you saw no lady?’ Sir George persisted, still incredulous.

‘There was no lady,’ the man answered simply.  ’I came out, and the gentleman there was swearing and trying the door.  I forced it with my chisel, and you may see the mark on the break of the lock now.’

‘Then we have been tricked,’ Sir George cried furiously.  ’We have followed the wrong carriage.’

‘Not you, sir,’ the smith answered.  ’Twas fitted up for the job, or I should not have had to force the door.  If ’twere not got ready for a job of this kind, why a half-inch shutter inside the canvas blinds, and the bolt outside, ’swell as a lock?  Mark that door!  D’you ever see the like of that on an honest carriage?  Why, ‘tis naught but a prison!’

He held up the light inside the carriage, and Sir George, the crowd pressing forward to look over his shoulder, saw that it was as the man said.  Sir George saw something more—­and pounced on it greedily.  At the foot of the doorway, between the floor of the carriage and the straw mat that covered it, the corner of a black silk kerchief showed.  How it came to be in that position, whether it had been kicked thither by accident or thrust under the mat on purpose, it was impossible to say.  But there it was, and as Sir George held it up to the lanthorn—­jealously interposing himself between it and the curious eyes of the crowd—­he felt something hard inside the folds and saw that the corners were knotted.  He uttered an exclamation.

‘More room, good people, more room!’ he cried.

‘Your honour ha’ got something?’ said the smith; and then to the crowd, ‘Here, you—­keep back, will you?’ he continued, ’and give the gentleman room to breathe.  Or will you ha’ the constable fetched?’

‘I be here!’ cried a weakly voice from the skirts of the crowd.

‘Ay, so be Easter,’ the smith retorted gruffly, as a puny atomy of a man with a stick and lanthorn was pushed with difficulty to the front.  ’But so being you are here, supposing you put Joe Hincks a foot or two back, and let the gentleman have elbow-room.’

There was a laugh at this, for Joe Hincks was a giant a little taller than the smith.  None the less, the hint had the desired effect.  The crowd fell back a little.  Meanwhile, Sir George, the general attention diverted from him, had untied the knot.  When the smith turned to him again, it was to find him staring with a blank face at a plain black snuff-box, which was all he had found in the kerchief.