"By last night's mail!" suggested the Gentleman. "May I ask then why you trouble to send a galloping express to Dover to stop him?"
The Parson's face darkened. He thrust forward.
"And may I ask how you know Nelson got to Dover last night?"
The other shrugged.
"I have agents."
The Parson nodded grimly.
"Yes; I've a list of em."
"Your countrymen, my friends"—with a malicious little bow—"the Friends of Freedom."
The Parson leaned out, black as night.
"Friends of Freedom be d——-d!" he thundered—"bloody traitors!"