“Me?—no,”—answered she, “I believe not,—I hardly indeed, see him now.”
“I have, I am pretty sure,” said Morrice; “and if I could see his face, I dare say I should recollect him.”
“He seems very willing to know if he can recollect any of us,” said Mr Gosport, “and, if I am not mistaken, he sees much better than he is seen.”
He was now come up to them, and though a glance sufficed to discover the object of his search, the sight of the party with which she was surrounded made him not dare stop or speak to her, and therefore, clapping spurs to his horse, he galloped past them.
“See,” cried Morrice, looking after him, “how he turns round to examine us! I wonder who he is.”
“Perhaps some highwayman!” cried Miss Larolles; “I assure you I am in a prodigious fright; I should hate to be robbed so you can't think.”
“I was going to make much the same conjecture,” said Mr Gosport, “and, if I am not greatly deceived, that man is a robber of no common sort. What think you, Miss Beverley, can you discern a thief in disguise?”
“No, indeed; I pretend to no such extraordinary knowledge.”
“That's true; for all that you pretend to is extraordinary ignorance.”
“I have a good mind,” said Morrice, “to ride after him, and see what he is about.”