dead lame.  I misdoubt now ’twas lamed in the stable by one of the men who dogged me.  Lord Hadleigh offered me his coach, to take me back the first stage—­to the inn where I had left my servants and had intended to sleep.  I accepted—­for in truth I sat up and talked all last night, and thought to doze the journey away.  Your Derbyshire roads are, however, too rough, and I was wide awake when the first shot was fired!”

“Do you think of taking steps to punish the authors of this outrage?” Colonel Holliday asked.

“By no means,” the earl answered.  “I would ask you to send over a man, with the horse I rode on and another, at daybreak.  Let him put them into the coach and drive back to Hadleigh, taking with him the bodies of the lackey and coachman.  With him I will send a note to my lord, asking that no stir be made in the matter.  We need not set the world talking as to my visit to his house; but lest any magistrate stir in the matter, I will leave a letter for him, saying that the coach in which I travelled was attacked by highwaymen, and that two of them, as well as the two servants, were killed, and that no further inquisition need be made into the matter.  You may be sure that the other side will say naught, and they will likely enough go back and carry off their dead tonight, and bury them quietly.”

“Very well, sir,” Colonel Holliday said.  “My grandson will ride over with you in the morning to Ashby-de-la-Zouche.  Two well-armed lackeys shall accompany you.”

“Oh, there is no fear of another attempt,” the earl said, smiling.  “Besides, your grandson and I could fight a whole troop of cutthroats by daylight.  What a swordsman that boy is!  And as cool as a veteran!  He is your pupil with the sword, I presume?”

“Only partly; he owes most of his skill to a French emigre, who calls himself Monsieur Dessin, but who had, I suspect, a far higher title across the water.  He is a magnificent swordsman; and as I was able to teach the lad a few thrusts which in their time did me good service, and the boy has a clear eye, a cool head, and a firm wrist, he can, young as he is, hold his own, go where he will.”

“What do you mean to do with him?  You ought to make a soldier of him.  It is the career of a gentleman, and we shall have a stirring campaign on the Rhine next spring.  He will have plenty of opportunities to distinguish himself, and I need not say he will have my best favour and protection!”

“I thank you heartily,” the colonel said, “and doubt not that one day the lad may claim the fulfilment of your promise.  At present his mother dreams of his being a Parliament man, and shining at court.  But you might as well expect to teach a falcon to dance.  Besides, the lad is a soldier heart and soul, and has, saving your presence, little of the whig in him; and his mother will find ere long, that if he goes to Parliament it will not be to vote as she wishes.

“Besides,” he said, moodily, “I foresee changes here which he, young as he is, will not brook.  If then at present I decline your kind offer in his name, I think that the time is not far off when he may remind you of it.”