The parliamentarian looked at Captain Barecolt, and Captain Barecolt looked at the parliamentarian. The former had a cynical sort of smile on his countenance, as if he recognised in the worthy captain a personage whom he had seen before under different circumstances; but Barecolt's face was a perfect blank, at least if that which bore so prominent a gnomon could be called so. At all events it said nothing; there was not the slightest glance of recognition in his eyes; there was not the smallest curl of consciousness round his mouth. He looked full in the officer's face, with the stare of a stranger, for very nearly a minute, and then civilly asked him if he would not sit down and join their party.

"No, I thank you," replied the parliamentarian, with the same sneering smile; "but I think I shall ask you to join ours."

"I am much obliged, my friend," replied Barecolt, without any change of countenance; "but I have nearly dined."

"Dined or not dined," rejoined the other, "you must come along with me."

"How now?" cried Barecolt, rising with a look of indignation; "I thought, from your look, that you were a God-fearing and worthy man; but if you be, as I now judge from your words, one of the malignant fermenters of strife in Israel, I tell you you are in the wrong part of the country to play your pranks, even if you had a company of swaggering rakehelly troopers at your heels."

"Come, come," replied the other, "I am what I seem, and what you know me right well to be. Did you ever hear of a certain Captain Batten, sir? Were you ever at such a place as Bishop's Merton?"

"Of a Captain Batten I have heard when I was in London," replied Barecolt, boldly, "and I have seen him too, but you are not he; for, in the first place, he is a godly and well-disposed person, and in the next place I do not recollect you. Then, as for Bishop's Merton, the very name of it is naught, and smacks of Prelacy and Popery."

"I am not Captain Batten, certainly," replied the other; "but I was cornet of his troop when you were at Bishop's Merton, and I watched you well along the road for forty miles and more, after you had made him prisoner. You have changed your dress, but I know you, Captain Barecolt."

"Captain Barecolt!" cried our worthy friend, lifting up his hands and eyes with a look of astonishment and indignation; "am I never to have done with Captain Barecolt? This is the third time within these four days that I have been mistaken for that good-for-nothing, worthless fellow. If ever I meet him I will cut off that nose of his, or he shall cut off mine, that there may be no more mistaking between us. However, sir, if you are really, as you say, a cornet of Captain Batten's troop, I am glad to meet you: there is my hand, and I am quite prepared to show you to your satisfaction that I am not the swaggering malignant you take me for, but a poor officer of French extraction, whose parents took refuge in this land during the persecutions of those who fought as I do for the cause of true faith and freedom of conscience. My name is Jersval, and you must, most likely, have heard of it, as I have for the last three months been assisting that worthy and pious man, Sir John Hotham, in strengthening the fortifications of Hull."

The officer looked at him for a moment or two with a bewildered stare; for, though he thought he could have sworn to the person of the man who had been pointed out to him, not many weeks before, as Captain Barecolt, a notorious malignant, yet the captain's coolness and effrontery were so great as almost to overbear his belief. He was not convinced, indeed, but he was staggered; and being somewhat of a dogged nature, he resolved to resist giving credence to mere assertions, however boldly made.

"Come, come," he said, "you say you can give me proofs. Where are they? I know your face quite well. The proofs--the proofs, man, or you must away with me to Hull."

"Be that at your peril, sir," replied Barecolt, with an air of dignity. I am travelling on business of importance for the governor, and I will resist being stopped to the shedding of blood. As to the proofs, here they are. You probably know Sir John Hotham's signature; and as he spoke, he drew forth from his pocket the pass which he had obtained from the governor of Hull.

So well had he combined all the particulars of his story, that every word in the pass tallied exactly with what he had said before. He was called therein the French officer, Captain Jersval, employed upon the fortifications; and all the authorities of the town and its dependencies, as well as all persons well affected to the state, were enjoined to give him free passage, aid, and assistance on all lawful occasions. The parliamentarian, as he read, became more and more bewildered, and indeed somewhat doubtful of Captain Barecolt's identity. The landlord also joined in on behalf of his guest, and vouched for his having behaved himself in a very comely and discreet manner. The Roundhead was, however, of a stubborn and stiff-necked race, as I have before hinted. He was far more inclined to believe his own eyes than any piece of paper in the world; and although he read the pass twice, he looked at Captain Barecolt often, each time muttering between his teeth an expression of conviction that he was right after all.

"Well, it does not signify," he said aloud, at length; "you shall go to Hull. You may have stolen this pass, or forged it, for aught I know. Unless some one can swear that you are the same man here spoken of, back you shall troop."

"That I can swear," cried Diggory Falgate, starting up, and forgetting his companion's injunctions to silence.

"And who, in the fiend's name, may you be?" demanded the parliamentary soldier, growing hot; for Barecolt had by this time quietly freed his long sword from the sheath, and placed his back towards the corner, giving a glance as he did so to the window, across which two other figures on horseback passed at the moment.

"Who am I?" said Falgate; "a citizen of Hull, sir; and I am ready to swear that I saw that gentleman walking and talking with the governor yesterday, and that he is the same to whom that pass was given."

"Go to, go to!" said the parliamentarian scornfully; "you seem some mechanic, who can know nought of such matters. Meddle with what concerns you, good man. Landlord, call in two of my troopers."

"Be it at your peril and theirs," replied Barecolt, in a voice of extraordinary loudness, bringing the point of his weapon towards the chest of his opponent who had taken a step forward. "Whoever says I am not Captain Jersval, lately employed by Sir John Hotham on the fortification of Hull, is a liar, and the consequence be upon his own head."

Just as he was pronouncing in a stentorian voice this recapitulation of the qualities and titles he thought fit to assume, and while Arrah Neil was drawing back to the farther side of the room with some alarm, but with the profound silence she had preserved throughout this scene, the landlord opened the door to obey the order he had received; but he was encountered at the threshold by two gentlemen, whom, to say truth, Captain Barecolt had seen a minute or two before, crossing the window on horseback. Now our worthy friend, at his heart, did not know whether to be sorry or rejoice at their presence, for there was much matter for very mingled feelings in their sudden appearance.

The first face that presented itself was that of Lord Beverley; and with all Barecolt's bad qualities he had a certain degree of chivalrous generosity in his nature, which made him unwilling to have another engaged in the same awkward scrape as himself, especially when, as in the case of the earl, many important interests he feared might be periled by his capture, while his own apprehension would principally affect his own neck. He had therefore shouted aloud, as soon as he saw his noble companion dismount to enter the inn, for the purpose of giving him some notice of what was going on within; nor had his words failed to catch the earl's ear, for the distance from the door of the room to the door of the house was but a step, and the windows were open.

If, however, the sight of the earl caused Captain Barecolt as much alarm as pleasure, the face of the personage who followed was anything but satisfactory in his eyes; for the last time he had seen it was in earnest and apparently secret conference with Sir John Hotham; and our friend had no means whatsoever of knowing whether his evasion from Hull had become public before the earl and his companion had set out.

What was his surprise, however, when Lord Beverley advanced towards him, holding out his hand and exclaiming, "Ah! Captain Jersval, I was afraid I should have missed you, for we came by the cross-roads. But what is all this? Sword in hand, my gallant captain! What is all this, sir?" he continued, turning to the parliamentary officer with an air of authority. "I hope you are not molesting this gentleman, who is a very grave and respectable person, and not one to draw his sword upon anybody without just occasion."

Barecolt was for once in his life wise enough not to say a word. He did not venture to hint at his feats in the Cevennes; he said nothing of Navarre or Arragon; he uttered not the name of Rochelle, but quietly left the earl to settle it all his own way.

Falgate, too, was overpowered at the sudden recognition of Captain Barecolt as Captain Jersval, and the Roundhead officer looked foolish and confounded, muttering for a moment or two something about "a mistake," till he recovered himself sufficiently to return to his point and declare, "that if ever human eyes were to be trusted, the man calling himself Jersval was no other than one Captain Barecolt, a notorious malignant."

"And pray, sir, do you know me?" demanded the earl; "for you seem to be much more knowing than your neighbours."

"No, I never saw you before," replied the man, bluffly.

"But I know you, Master Stumpborough," said the earl's companion, advancing in turn. "At least, if I am not mistaken, you are the man I was told to look for while accompanying this gentleman on his road. You are the cornet of Batten's troop of horse, are you not?"

"The same, sir," replied the other with a stiff bow; "it seems we shall get at the truth of the matter now."

"It is only your stupid thick head that has prevented your getting at it before, Master Stumpborough," replied the gentleman. "This person whom you persist in calling Barecolt--you must be a bare colt yourself for your pains--is Captain Jersval, who has been employed by Sir John Hotham in strengthening the defences of our town, and who is now going on with this gentleman upon business of importance. We have been looking for him all along the road; so, if you had stopped or injured him, you would have lost your ears for your pains."

"I told him so! I told him so! I told him so!" cried Barecolt, at every pause in the other's words.

But the gentleman from Hull proceeded to hand a small paper to the parliamentarian. "There is a word or two for you from Sir John. Now get ready to march on without further delay. I will return with you. I think, sir," he continued, addressing the earl, "you will not want me any more."

"No, I thank you, sir," replied Lord Beverley; "I can find my way on with my companions here. Commend me to Sir John, and accept my best thanks for your company so far."

While these few words were passing between the royalist nobleman and his companion of the road, the Roundhead officer had been spelling through Sir John Hotham's note, looking both puzzled with the writing and confounded with all that had lately taken place. When he had done, however, he thought fit to make an apology to Barecolt for taking him for the man he really was.

"I will never believe my eyes again, sir," he said, "for I would have sworn that you were that blaspheming ribaldy varlet, Barecolt, only dressed in a brown suit and with a steeple-crowned hat on. You are as like as two peas; only, now I think of it, he may be a little taller. But I hope you do not bear malice, sir; now I know who you are, I am satisfied; I only wished to do my duty."

"I certainly do not thank you, sir, for taking me, a peaceable and God-fearing man, for a blaspheming ribaldy varlet," replied Barecolt, with a solemn air, "but I forgive you, sir, I forgive you! Every man needs forgiveness more or less, and so farewell; but use your eyes to better purpose another time, and if ever you see Captain Barecolt, tell him that when next he and Jersval meet, I will set such a mark upon him that there shall be no more mistakes; and so fare you well."

A few words had in the meanwhile passed in a low tone between the earl and his companion from Hull, and the latter then took his leave, seeing the commander of the party of troopers and the landlord of the house out before him. Barecolt immediately turned a glance full of merriment to Lord Beverley; but that nobleman with a grave face put his finger to his lips, and then, seating himself at the table, said--"Well, Captain Jersval, by your leave I will share your dinner, which, by the fulness of the plates, seems to have been somewhat unpropitiously interrupted."

"Certainly, certainly, sir," said Barecolt, resuming his seat at the head of the table. "Come, Falgate; come, Mistress Arrah Neil."

At the latter name the earl started, and gazed at Arrah for a moment; but took no further notice, and only whispered to Barecolt, "Make haste!"