“Where ‘s thim troopers yez was talkin’ av?” questioned the landlord, peering out into the night.

“Throw some wood on those embers, and give me a drink of something, quickly,” ordered Brereton, paying no heed to the inquiry.

“Bad ’cess to yea lies,” retorted the man, shutting the door.  “It’s not wan bit av firing or drink yez get this night from—­ Oh, mother in hivin, don’t shoot, an’ yez honour shall have the best in the house, an’ a blessin’ along wid it!  Only just point it somewheer else, darlin’, for thim horse-pistols is cruel fond av goin’ off widout bein’ fired.  Thank yez, sir, it ’s my wife in bed will bless the day yez was born.”  The man hastily raked open the bed of ashes and threw chips and billets on the embers.  Then he unlocked a corner cupboard.  “Oi’ve New England rum, corn whiskey, an’ home-made apple-jack, sir.”

“Give me the latter, and if you’ve any food, let me have it.  Brrrew!  From nigh Brunswick I’ve rid since nine last night and thought to perish a dozen times with the cold, dismount and run beside my horse as I would.”

“Drop that pistol, or I shoot!” came a sharp order, spoken from the gloom of a doorway across the room.  “You are a prisoner.”

Brereton had been stooping over the fire, as it gained fresh life, but with one spring he was behind the chimney breast.

“’T is idle to resist,” persisted the hidden speaker.  “The way is barred in both directions, and there are three of us.”

Brereton laughed recklessly.  “Come on, most courageous three.  I’ve a bullet for one, and a sword for two.”

“Howly hivin! just let me out first off,” besought the publican.

“If I had lead to spare, you should have the first of it for letting me into this trap,” Brereton told him viciously.  “Why did you not warn me there were British hereabout?”

“Hold!” came the distant voice.  “If you think us British, who are you?”

The officer hesitated, pondering on the possibility of being tricked, or of possibly tricking.  “If you were a gentleman,” he said, after a pause, “you ’d give me a hint as to which side you belong.”

The unseen man laughed heartily at Jack’s reply.  “Set me an example, then.”

“That I will,” said Jack, “though I don’t guarantee the truth of it.  I am an aide of General Washington, riding on public service.

“Time enough it took you to know it.  And if so, what were you doing near Brunswick?”

“I took the route I knew best.”

“Thy name is?”

“Jack Brereton.”

“Art thou a green-eyed, carrot-faced put, who frights all the women with his ill looks?” cried the man, entering.

Brereton laughed as he stepped out from the sheltering projection.  “Switch you, whoever you are, for keeping me from the fire when I am chilled to the marrow.  Why, Eustace, this is luck beyond belief!  But hast swallowed a frog?  You croak so that I knew you not.”