Galliard, it seems, slew the fellow's son at Worcester.

Had I but known," he added regretfully--"had your wits been keener, and you had discovered it and sent me word, I had found means to help Colonel Pride to his revenge.

As it is"-- he shrugged his shoulders--"there is not time." "It may be--" began Gregory, then stopped abruptly with an exclamation that caused Joseph to wheel sharply round.

The door had opened, and on the threshold Sir Crispin Galliard stood, deferentially, hat in hand.
Joseph's astonished glance played rapidly over him for a second.

Then: "Who the devil may you be ?" he blurted out.
Despite his anxiety, Gregory chuckled at the question.