Page 321 - A Jacobite Exile

"Now, Tony, we will proceed to business. You have got pen and ink and
paper, I suppose?"

"I have everything ready, sir. I will clear away this table, so as to have all in

order."

When this was done, the highwayman was lifted up and placed in a chair,

and the gag removed from his mouth.

"You don't remember us, I suppose, my man?" Charlie began. "The last
time I saw you was when I brought my stick down on your head, when you
were listening outside a window at Lynnwood."

An exclamation of surprise broke from the prisoner.

"Yes, I am Charlie Carstairs, and this gentleman is Harry Jervoise. By the
way, I have made a mistake. I have seen you twice since then. The first

time was in a wayside tavern, some twelve miles beyond Barnet, nine days
ago. The second time was at another tavern in Barnet. You will remember

that a mischievous boy threw a stone, and broke one of the lattice panes of
the window, where you were sitting talking over this little affair of the
North coach."

A deep execration broke from the lips of the highwayman.

"Now you see how we know all about it," Charlie went on. "Now, it
entirely depends on yourself whether, in the course of another hour, we

shall hand you over to a magistrate, as the leader of the gang who robbed
the North coach, and took part in the robbery near Dorking--we have found

some of the watches and other plunder in your bedroom--or whether you
escape trial for these offences. You may be wanted for other, similar
affairs."

"Yes, sir," Tony put in. "Now I see him, he answers exactly to the

description of a man the officers have been in search of, for a long time. He
goes by the name of Dick Cureton, and has been engaged in at least a dozen