182 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



informant (or another, I suppose) would be sent to 

 a certain covert with a box. The rattle of John 

 Isaac's horse's hoofs approaching, it was the signal for 

 release ; and the rest occurred secundum artem. But 

 I have chuckled a few times over the story. 



Since then I have seen the Pytchley three or four 

 times — I mean since the day at Brock Hall — but 

 their doings on those occasions would not particu- 

 larly interest the reader. 



