“I’m sorry to hear this, but—” and here the speaker regarded Peace with a still more searching look, “it’s his horse you are riding.”
“Yes, that’s right enough; it is.”
“Then who are you going for?”
“Dr. Gardiner.”
While this conversation was taking place, Peace had so distorted his features that recognition was almost impossible. He was an adept at this. By constant practice he was enabled to throw out his under jaw, lift up his eyebrows, and so alter the expression of his features that he defied detection. This is now pretty generally acknowledged.
“Well, I must not let anyone detain me very long in a case like this,” he observed, carelessly. “So farewell for the present.”
The patrol made no reply. He did not, however, feel quite satisfied that all was quite right; at the same time he did not consider it his duty to offer any obstacle to Peace’s passage along the road, which led directly to the town of Hull.
Peace trotted along till the patrol was lost to sight, then he pulled the bridal rein of the mare, and turned her into a narrow lane which ran at right angles with the road.
“That fellow suspects something,” he murmured; “and for two pins he would have collared me there and then. The sooner I part company with the mare the better it will be for both of us, I’m thinking.”
He dismounted, opened a gate which was at the corner of a meadow, and led the mare into the field; then he took off the saddle and bridle, which he threw into a ditch, gave the animal a sharp crack with his whip, shut the gate, and left her to herself. This done, he proceeded merrily along on foot.