“Lor, I’m not like ever to see any Jacobite officer.”
“Don’t be too sure. My gentleman is probably somewhere in this neighbourhood. So keep your pretty eyes open, my dear. His name is Everell—Charles Everell—so I was told by a prisoner we took, who had seen our little exchange of compliments: though ’tis scarce like he’ll be travelling under his real name just at present.”
“Ay, for I hear they’re going to hang all the Jacobites they catch.”
“So they are, except the great ones, and them they behead. They’ve already begun the good work in London, both ways. Whether this gentleman is high enough to be honoured with the axe, or whether his case will be served by a halter, I know not. He was in the Pretender’s body-guard, at any rate.”
“But how do you know he’s in this neighbourhood?”
“Because, sweetheart, I saw him yesterday on the road the first time since Culloden fight. Before I had a chance to lay information against him, he had given me the slip. I spent the whole night in trying to get on his track, at inns and other houses. I think he may still be in these parts, and if I can manage it he shall meet his just deserts.”
“How monstrous bitter you are against him, to be sure!”
“No. I’m not bitter, my dear. ’Tis only patriotism—loyalty;—’tis our duty, you know, to bring any of these rebels to justice when Providence puts it in our way. And then I’m a persistent man, too; when I once get on the scent of a thing, I can’t stop till I’ve run it down. And so, pretty miss,” he added, playfully, “if you happen to see such a gentleman, within the next day or two,—young and good-looking, and most likely travelling with a friend of about the same age, who’s also a handsome young man but summat heavier built,—why, if you see such a gentleman, with the ace of hearts on his cheek, hold your tongue, and send word to me in care of this inn—Jeremiah Filson—and I’ll see you get your share of the reward.”
Mr. Filson smiled tenderly; and then yawned. A moment later the landlady called from the entry that his room was ready.
“Remember, my dear, the ace of hearts, and Jeremiah Filson,” he said, with a parting grin and wink, and then followed the chambermaid, whom the landlady had ordered to show him his room. Prudence, at the entry door, watched him ascend the stairs till he disappeared at the turn, and heard him bestow a gallant “my dear” upon the chambermaid as he continued on his way, whereupon she tossed her head and became suddenly scornful.