"Come—come, Captain Sparks," exclaimed Frank: "this observation isn't fair on your part. I may have my faults—I know I have; but I don't shoot with the long bow. I hate that kind of thing!"
"But let us return to the subject of your uncle Sir Christopher," said Tom. "What has he been doing?"
"Run away with a lady's-maid—gone to Gretna with Lady Hatfield's female servant Charlotte!" cried Frank, with great bitterness of tone. "The damned old fool!—but I'll cut him—cut him dead—and that's some consolation."
"Gone to Gretna with Lady Hatfield's maid!" exclaimed Rainford.
"Maid, indeed! I hope he'll find her so!" said Curtis. "The hussey! But I'll be even with her yet!"
"And when did this happen?" inquired Tom.
"Oh! only a few days ago. They are not come back yet. I dare say Sir Christopher already repents his bargain. But I'll cut him!"
"I'm afraid if you cut his acquaintance, he'll cut off your supplies," observed Rainford jocosely.
"And what does that matter?" ejaculated Frank. "Do you think there are no rich women in London that would be glad to have a decent-looking fellow like myself. Egad! I've already got introduced to a widow as wealthy as if her late husband had been a Nabob. It's true that she's blest with five pledges of the said late husband's affection; but then she's got five thousand a-year—and one five is a good set-off against the other, Captain Sparks. Rather so—eh? old fellow?"
"Well, I think it is," returned the highwayman. "But how did all this happen about Sir Christopher and the lady's-maid?"