To make it worse, Falconnet, who had lagged behind at the fire, was now heaping fresh fuel on, and this reviving of the blaze made the place as light as day.  With the nearest links in the redcoat chain no more than a pike’s-length at our backs, we dared not stir or breathe a word; and, all in all, we might have been taken like rats in a trap had any one of the sentries on our side of the circle chanced to look behind him.

Having repaired the fire to his liking, the troop-captain came up to pass a word or two with his lieutenant.  They spoke guardedly, but we could hear—­could not help hearing.

“You have seen nothing, Gordon?”

“Nothing, as yet.”

“Make the round again and tell the men ’twill be ten gold joes and a double allowance of liquor to the man who first claps eyes on any one of the four.”

The subaltern went to carry out the order, and Falconnet fell to pacing back and forth before the little wigwam.  I could see his face at the turn where the firelight fell upon him; ’twas the face of a villain at his worst, namely, a villain half in liquor.  There was a lurking devil of passion peering out of the sensuous eyes; and ever and anon he stopped as if to listen for some sound within the captives’ lodge.

When the lieutenant returned to make his report, he was given another order to cap the first.

“Your line is too close-drawn and too conspicuous,” said the captain, shortly.  “Move the men out fifty paces in advance, and bid them take cover.”

“They will scarce be within hail of each other at that,” says the lieutenant.

“Near enough, with ten gold pieces to sharpen their eyesight.  Go you with them and hold them to their work.”

The line was presently extended as the order ran, each link in the cordon chain advancing fifty paces on its front into the forest.  Dick fetched a deep sigh of relief; and I thought less of the thin-leafed cover and the scarlet coat of me.

Falconnet had resumed the pacing of his sentry beat before the lodge, but when his men were out of sight and hearing he stopped short and stole on tiptoe to lay his ear to the flap.

“So, you are awake, Mistress Margery?  Send your woman out.  I would speak with you—­alone.”

There was no reply, but we could both hear the low anguished voice of our dear lady praying for help in this her hour of trial.  Dick inched aside to give me room, freeing his weapon, as I did mine.  We were not over-quiet about it, but the captain of horse was too hot upon his own devil’s business to look behind him.

Having no answer from within, he stooped to loose the flap.  It was pegged down on the inside.  He rose and whipped out his sword; the firelight fell upon his face again and we saw it as it had been the face of a foul fiend from the pit.

“Open!” he commanded; and when there was neither reply nor obedience, he cut the flap free with his sword and flung it back.