“Ah, I thought you were a house-breaker in the first place!” said Sir Richard, shaking his head.
“I am not a house-breaker! You know I am not!”
“If the Runners are after you, it is obvious to me that you are a desperate character,” he replied, slipping his snuff-box into his pocket. “Let us go downstairs, and have some breakfast.”
“Please, dear sir, be serious! I am sure that my Aunt must have set the Runner on to me!”
“My dear child, if there is any one thing more certain than another it is that Bow Street has never heard of your existence. Don’t be silly!”
“Oh!” She heaved a sigh of relief. “I do trust you are right, but it is just the sort of thing Aunt Almeria would do!”
“You are the best judge of that, no doubt, but you may take it from me that it is not in the least the sort of thing a Bow Street Runner would do. You will probably find that the man he wants is our friend Mr Yarde.”
“Yes, at first I thought that too, but he says the Runner is welcome to search him if he wants to.”
“Then it is safe to assume that Mr Yarde has disposed of whatever booty it was he ran off with. Breakfast!”
In considerable trepidation, Pen followed him down to the parlour. They found Jimmy Yarde discussing a plate of cold beef. He greeted Sir Richard with a grin and a wink, obviously quite unabashed by his previous encounter with him that morning, to which he referred in the frankest terms. “When I meet up with a leery cove, I don’t bear malice,” he announced, raising a tankard of ale. “So here’s your wery good health, guv’nor, and no hard feelings!”