Aim. What! all?
Gib. My company's but thin, ha! ha! ha! we are but three, ha! ha! ha!
Aim. You're merry, sir.
Gib. Ay, sir, you must excuse me, sir; I understand the world, especially the art of travelling: I don't care, sir, for answering questions directly upon the road— for I generally ride with a charge about me. [121]
Aim. Three or four, I believe. [Aside.
Gib. I am credibly informed that there are highwaymen upon this quarter; not, sir, that I could suspect a gentleman of your figure—but truly, sir, I have got such a way of evasion upon the road, that I don't care for speaking truth to any man.
Aim. [Aside.] Your caution may be necessary.—[Aloud.] Then I presume you're no captain? [129]
Gib. Not I, sir; captain is a good travelling name, and so I take it; it stops a great many foolish inquiries that are generally made about gentlemen that travel, it gives a man an air of something, and makes the drawers obedient:—and thus far I am a captain, and no farther.
Aim. And pray, sir, what is your true profession?
Gib. O sir, you must excuse me!—upon my word, sir, I don't think it safe to tell ye.