"Indeed, Philip," added Patience, gently, "we already are deeply in this gentleman's debt. Betty, who saw him, tells me that it was he who brought me your letter yester night."
"You, sir!" exclaimed Stretton in profound astonishment, "then you are..."
He paused instinctively, for he had remembered his conversation with John Stich earlier in the day; he remembered the anger, the wonder, which he had felt when the smith told him that he had entrusted the precious letter for Lady Patience to Beau Brocade, the highwayman ...
"Then you are...?" repeated Philip, mechanically.
Patience was clinging to her brother, with her back towards the stranger, so she did not see the swift look of appeal the slender finger put up in a mute, earnest prayer for silence. But now she turned and looked inquiringly at him, her eyes asking for a name by which she could remember him.
"Captain Jack Bathurst," he said, bowing low, "at your command."
CHAPTER XII
THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE ROSE
But of course there was no time to be lost. Captain Jack Bathurst was the first to give the alarm.
"Those gallant lobsters won't be long in finding out that they've been hoodwinked," he said, "an I mistake not, they'll return here anon with a temper slightly the worse for wear. They must not find your lordship here at anyrate," he added earnestly.