“Any one passed lately—horsemen and carriages?” said the captain quietly.
The man chuckled.
“Yes, a couple of your kidney,” said the man. “You’re too late.”
A pang shot through Frank, and he leaned forward.
“Too late? What do you mean, sir?” cried the captain sharply; and, as he spoke, he threw back his horseman’s cloak, showing his uniform slightly.
“Oh, I beg your worships’ pardon. I took you for gentlemen of the road.”
“What, highwaymen?”
“Yes, sir. A couple of them went by not ten minutes ago. But I don’t suppose they’ll try to stop you. They don’t like catching Tartars. Be as well to have your pistols handy, though.”
“Thank you for the hint,” said the captain, and they rode on.
“What do you say, Frank?” said the captain. “Shall we go any farther? It would be an awkward experience for you if we were stopped by highwaymen. Shall we stop?”