D’ri blew out a thoughtful breath, looking up into the air coolly, as he filled his pipe.

“Consarned if ever I wanted t’ have a smoke s’ bad ’n all my born days,” he remarked.

Then he moved his holster, turned his scabbard, and sat down quietly, puffing his pipe with some look of weariness and reflection.  We were sitting there less than five minutes when we heard a footfall near by; then suddenly two men strode up to us in the dim light.  I recognized at once the easy step, the long, lithe figure, of his Lordship in the dress of a citizen, saving sword and pistols.

“Ah, good evening, gentlemen,” said he, quietly.  “How are you?”

“Better than—­than when we saw you last,” I answered.

D’ri had not moved; he looked up at me with a sympathetic smile.

“I presume,” said his Lordship, in that familiar, lazy tone, as he lighted a cigar, “there was—­ah—­good room for improvement, was there not?”

“Abundant,” said I, thoughtfully.  “You were not in the best of health yourself that evening.”

“True,” said he; “I—­I was in bad fettle and worse luck.”

“How are the ladies?”

“Quite well,” said he, blowing a long puff.

“Ready to deliver them?” I inquired.

“Presently,” said he.  “There are—­some formalities.”

“Which are—?” I added quickly.

“A trifle of expenses and a condition,” said he, lazily.

“How much, and what?” I inquired, as D’ri turned his ear.

“One thousand pounds,” said his Lordship, quickly.  “Not a penny more than this matter has cost me and his Majesty.”

“What else?” said I.

“This man,” he answered calmly, with a little gesture aimed at D’ri.

My friend rose, struck his palm with the pipe-bowl, and put up his knife.

“Ef ye’re goin’ t’ tek me,” said he, “better begin right off, er ye won’t hev time ’fore breakfust.”

Then he clapped the moose-horn to his lips and blew a mighty blast.  It made the two men jump and set the near thicket reeling.  The weird barytone went off moaning in the far wastes of timber.  Its rush of echoes had begun.  I put my hand to my sabre, for there in the edge of the gloom I saw a thing that stirred me to the marrow.  The low firs were moving toward us, root and branch, their twigs falling.  Gods of war! it made my hair stand for a jiffy to see the very brush take feet and legs.  On sea or land I never saw a thing that gave me so odd a feeling.  We stood for a breath or two, then started back, our sabres flashing; for, as the twigs fell, we saw they had been decorating a squad of the British.  They came on.  I struck at the lantern, but too late, for his Lordship had swung it away.  He stumbled, going to his knees; the lantern hit the earth and went out.  I had seen the squad break, running each way, to surround us.  D’ri grabbed my hand as the dark fell, and we went plunging through the little