“Don’t keep on saying that,” said the Viscount. “You can take what you like from the right man, but you don’t rob anyone else while you’re with me!”
They rode on up the slope, and once more dismounted. “Well, if I’m broke for this, I think I’ll take to the—what-do-you call it? Bridle-lay. I’d no notion it was so easy,” said Captain Heron.
“Yes, but I don’t like the clothes,” said the Viscount. “Devilish hot!”
Sir Roland sighed. “Beautiful wheelers!” he murmured sadly.
The afternoon wore on. Another wagon lumbered past, three more horsemen, and one stage.
“Can’t have missed the fellow, can we?” fretted the Viscount.
“All we missed was our luncheon,” replied Captain Heron. He pulled his watch out. “It’s on three already, and I dine in South Street at five.”
“Dining with my mother, are you?” said the Viscount. “Well, the cook’s damned bad, Edward, and so I warn you. Couldn’t stand it myself. One reason why I live in lodgings. What’s that, Hawkins? Heard something?”
“There’s a chaise coming up the road,” said Mr Hawkins. “And I hope it’s the right one,” he added bitterly.
When it came into sight, a smart, shining affair, slung on very high swan’s-neck springs, the Viscount said: “That’s more like it! Now then, Pom, we’ve got him!”