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from any prying eyes in the night.
    "Quite a booty , Charlie," Will chuckled as he emptied the bag of jewelry onto the rough, wooden table. His smile thinned, however, as his thick fingers came in contact with the emerald stock buckle of the Duke of Camareigh. "Wish you'd not baited the scar-faced gent. Don't like the looks of him. He's no lily-livered fool, that one. Didn't recognize him either," Will puzzled, rubbing a hand over his rough, stubbled chin.
    "Some fancy coxcomb from town, out for a little country air, no doubt," Bonnie Charlie dismissed him with a contemptuous shrug.
    "I don't know, Charlie. I didn't like his eyes, nor that mean grin on his face." Will shook his massive shoulders. "Mark my words—he means trouble."
    "A carpet-knight, no more than that, Will. What can one of those town toffs do to me?" the highwayman laughed derisively. "Slap my face with a scented hankie and call me out? No, I think not. They hold no threat to us. After all, what have those fine gentlemen accomplished these last years? I still roam freely, no shackles or hangman's noose for me."
    He bent suddenly and scooped up the emerald buckle in his gloved hand. Tossing it in the air, he thoughtfully said, "It's a beauty and will fetch us a fair price. I must admit the previous owner did indeed have good taste."
    "Maybe, but I still don't like it," Will said stubbornly.
    "Oh come now, Will. You're not superstitious about this little, shiny thing?" he teased.
    Will remained silent, a brooding look on his usually cheerful features. "It bodes no good for us, I say."
    "I'll remember your dire predictions when I pocket the handsome profit, and you needn't take your share of it if you're still superstitious about it." Bonnie Charlie laughed as he watched the sudden change on the big man's face.
    "Well now, I didn't say I was that worried about it, Charlie. I'm not letting some city swell cost me my fair share," he rallied, stiffening his spine as he stretched to his full six-foot-five frame.
    "That's the spirit, Will. Now you know what to do. Take these to London and our Mr. Biggs. He'll sell them and get a good price, and I think we might manage a little higher price than last time, eh, Will? Biggs isn't above trying to hoodwink us," he warned.
    "He won't try anything on me and John. He knows better. Values his serpent skin too much to double-cross us."
    "Good, and let me know if you hear any other news. You know what I'm waiting to hear about."
    "Sure, Charlie, I'll let you know."
    "All right then; a good night's work, I'd say. Let's be off."
    Charlie bundled up the jewelry, stuffed the bag into an old sack, then handed it over to Will, who wedged it behind a loose stone in the wall. Snuffing out the flame between a large thumb and forefinger, Will followed Bonnie Charlie from the hut, his premonitions of disaster left behind with the loot. They traced their way back through the marshy ground with difficulty, and then up into the trees and away from the wooded valley, riding fast through the countryside.
    Silently they entered an apple and cherry orchard, coming quickly to the walled end, beyond which lay a garden. The sweet fragrance of climbing roses hung heavy in the still night air and invaded Bonnie Charlie's senses as he climbed from his mount's back to the top of the stone wall. He waved, waiting as Will led the horses off, then jumped down on the garden side with a slight thud. He made his way easily through the rows of daffodils and roses to a large rhododendron hedge hugging the house. Slipping past it he moved behind to a recessed area beside the brick chimney. Sliding back a false, half-timbered section of brick he entered the house unobtrusively. Making his way through a short, dark passage well-swept of dust and cobwebs, he came to a panel and locating the latch slid it open and entered a large, dimly-lit room. The embers of a fire glowed faintly from the large fireplace and did little to lessen the chill that rose from the