"'Twas that very same reason with meself thin!" Jack stared at him.
"Miles, don't tell me yours were unloaded, too?"
"'Deed an' they were! Ecod, Jack! 'tis the best joke I've heard for a twelvemonth." They both started to laugh. "Sure 'twas bluff on my part, Jack, when I told ye yours was unloaded. And me lady was determined to set you free from the moment I told her all about it this morning. We were sure ye were no ordinary highwayman, though I was a fool not to have known ye right away. But now I have found ye out, ye'll stay with us—Cousin Harry?"
"I cannot thank you enough, Miles, but I will not do that. I must get back to Jim."
"And who the devil is Jim?"
"My servant. He'll be worried nigh to death over me. Nay, do not press me, I could not stay here, Miles. You must see for yourself 'tis impossible—Jack Carstares does not exist; only Anthony Ferndale is left."
"Jack, dear man, can I not—"
"No, Miles, you can do nothing, though 'tis like you to want to help, and I do thank you. But—oh well! ... What about my mare?"
"Plague take me if I'd not forgotten! Jack, that scoundrel of mine let her strain her fetlock. I'm demmed sorry."
"Poor Jenny! I'll swear she gave him an exciting ride, though."