No doubt the Sergeant would never have ventured, but the near approach of the Duke of Cumberland’s army, and of his own superior officers, gave the worthy soldier a certain amount of confidence. He had full rights and powers of search, and had been sent to this part of the country to hunt for rebels. He had been tricked and hoodwinked more often than he cared to remember, and he knew that his superior officers would never blame him for following up a clue, even if thereby he was somewhat overstepping his powers.
"The papers," continued Bathurst, "the papers which’ll prove his guilt ... the papers! or he’ll destroy them."
The Sergeant gave a last look at his prisoner. He seemed secure enough guarded by three men, who were even now strapping his hands behind his back. The accusation therefore could be no trick to save his own skin, and who knows? if the Earl of Stretton was a rebel lord, then why not the Squire of Hartington?
"Seize him, and search him!" commanded the Sergeant, "in the name of the King!"
"Your pardon, sir," he added deferentially, "but the Duke of Cumberland is within earshot almost, and I should be cashiered if I neglected my duty."
"This is an outrage!" cried Sir Humphrey, who had become purple with rage.
"It’s doing your Honour no harm! and if I’ve done wrong no doubt I shall be punished. Search him, my men!"
It was Sir Humphrey’s turn now to be helpless in the hands of the soldiers. He knew quite well that the Sergeant was within his duty and would certainly not get punished for this. Worse outrages than this attempt on his august person had been committed in the Midlands on important personages, on women and even children, during this terrible campaign against fugitive rebels.
Less than five seconds had elapsed when the soldier drew the packet of letters from Sir Humphrey’s pocket and handed it to his Sergeant.
"They’d best be for His Royal Highness’s own inspection," said the latter, quietly, as he slipped them inside his scarlet coat.
"Aye! for His Royal Highness!" quoth Jack Bathurst in mad, wild, feverish glee. "Oh, now is it that your Honour thought you could be even with me? What?"
Sir Humphrey was speechless with the hopelessness of his baffled rage. But Patience, almost hysterical with the intensity of her relief after the terrible suspense which she had just endured, had fallen back half fainting against the stairs, and murmuring,—