But amid all his weariness and pain, and the peril of his position, he felt, with a thrill of proud satisfaction, that he had at least played the part which had been allotted to him, and had drawn off the forces of the enemy whilst Lord Claud made good his escape with the real despatches.

Whatever vials of fury might quickly be poured upon his head, he would always know that he had done his duty--and who can do more than that?
A light was twinkling in the hut.

Tom was pushed and hustled within.

A voice, that he remembered as having heard once before, called out from above: "Bring the prisoner up here to me." The next minute Tom entered the very room where he and Lord Claud had slept the previous night; but it was now tenanted by a new occupant--a dark-skinned man of huge frame and malignant aspect--who regarded Tom from beneath the penthouse of his frowning brows, and plainly remembered him as well as he was himself remembered.
"So we meet again, my young buck of the forest! You seem to serve a master who takes pleasure in bringing you into peril and doubtful adventure! So you are the bearer of despatches to the Duke of Savoy?
I fear, my good friend, Victor Amadeus will be disappointed of his news for once.

And I say in good sooth, that if his grace of Marlborough chooses to intrust the matters of the secret service to unfledged lads, he deserves to find himself outwitted." Tom compressed his lips to hide the smile that might have told too much.