“Rather!” I assented vigorously. “What a flat, ugly country, too! I never saw anything like it.”
“Beastly country! beastly place altogether!” de Cartienne agreed. “I’m jolly sick of it, I can tell you! Steady, Brandy! steady, sir!” giving the near animal a cut with the whip.
“What do you call your horses?” I asked curiously.
“Brandy and Soda. Jolly neat name for a pair. Don’t you think so?”
“Uncommon, at any rate,” I answered ambiguously. “Didn’t you say that we were to call for Silchester somewhere?”
“Mean Cis? Oh, yes; we’ve got to pick him up at the Rose and Crown.”
“A hotel?”
“Well, hardly. Fact is,” de Cartienne continued, dropping his voice a little, and glancing behind to see whether the groom was listening—“fact is, Cis is a bit inclined to make a fool of himself. There’s a pretty girl at this place and he puts in an uncommon lot of time there. Awfully pretty girl she is, really,” he added confidentially. “Won’t stand any nonsense, either. The place is only a pub., after all, but everyone who goes there has to behave himself. She won’t have a lot of fellows dangling about after her, though she might have the whole town if she liked. Makes her all the more dangerous, I think.”
“And Lord Silchester——”
“Hang the ‘lord’!” interrupted my companion, whipping his horses.