Hounslow in Stephen's opinion was getting to be quite a big place.
"When I was a boy it hadn't more'n a hundred houses—it's double or treble that now, but they're pretty well all inns an' ale houses an' mighty queer ones, some of em are. Hand in glove with highway robbers an' footpads. Not much good a-tryin' to catch a highwayman if he once gets to Hounslow. He's only got to run in one of the houses where's he known an' you might as well try to foller a fox as has darted into a drain. Some o' them ale houses an' boozin' kens has got passages a-runnin' one into the other."
"That's very terrible Mr. Stephen. You quite alarm me," cried Lavinia.
But she was not so alarmed as she would have been had she been brought up a fine lady. She had had highwaymen pointed out to her in Drury Lane and Dyott Street and knew that the majority were boasting, bragging fellows and cowards at heart. But there were others of a different quality who did their robberies with quite a gentlemanly air.
They took the way through Whitton Park. As the housekeeper said, the journey was cross-country so far as roads were concerned, but Stephen knew the short cuts and they reached the long, straggling, mean-looking Hounslow High Street—the future town was at that time little more than a street—at about a quarter to six.
They entered the "George"—a house of greater pretensions than the rest—and Lavinia found she was in plenty of time for the London coach.
"She'll be late," said the landlord. "A chap as just come in says he rode past her t'other side o' the heath an' she was stuck fast on a nasty bit o' boggy road and one o' the leaders—a jibber—wouldn't stir a step for whip or curses."
"That's bad," said Stephen. "Still it would ha' been far worse if some o' them High Toby gentry had stopped the coach."
"Aye," rejoined the landlord dropping his voice. "We had a fellow o' that sort in about half an hour ago. He was on a mare as wiry an' springy as could be, could clear a pike gate like a wild cat I'll bet. I didn't like the scoundrel's phizog and I'll swear he didn't want to know for naught what time the London coach passed the George. I wouldn't wonder if he was hanging about Smallbury Green at this 'ere very minute. But don't 'ee let the young leddy know this. She might be afeared, an' after all I may be wrong."
Stephen nodded.