"Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. ” She paused, and he waited for her to speak. It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to kill him in a new way. CHAPTER XXX.
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