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THE ROGUE'S MARCH
Hardly had he deciphered them when a wardsman thrust in his head and summoned Erichsen to the major’s quarters.
“They’ve been quick about it,” thought Tom, as another wardsman joined them on the way.
The major looked very stern and strong. Daintree was drawing on his gloves. Tom thought he recognised the little heap of clothes upon the floor; the trousers were blood-stained still.
“Now, sir!” cried the major with a glittering eye. “I think you said that no power on earth would shift you out of this? Off with those irons, men, and he shall see!”
Through the black window glowed the curricle lamps.
