“I think you will lead me to my cousin,” said Captain Ware, walking over to the door. He opened it, and found that Wragby was standing in the hall. He grinned at him. “Come here, Wragby!” he said. “We are going to take a little journey tomorrow into Hertfordshire, and we are going to take this person with us.”
“You would be wiser to let me go immediately!” interpolated Mr. Liversedge desperately. “I dare not answer for the consequences to his Grace if I am any longer absent! He may be dead by the time you reach him, sir!”
“Now, what must I do to teach you that I am not such a gudgeon as you supposed?” wondered the Captain. “Those who are his gaolers will most certainly keep him alive until they know how you have fared with me. Wragby, I want this fellow kept under guard! That should not trouble you, I fancy!”
The ex-sergeant smiled indulgently. “Lor’ no, sir! We’ll rack up for the night, all right and tight together. And what may we be going to do in Hertfordshire, if I may make so bold as to ask?”
“We are going to extricate his Grace from a scrape,” replied Gideon, his eyes alight. “I’ll take the curricle, and my bays. Tell Sturry to see to it! We shall set out at the earliest possible moment.”
“What, are we going to take this rasher-of-wind along with us, sir?” demanded Wragby disapprovingly.
“Sir,” said Mr. Liversedge, “I would not have believed that any man of honour and breeding could have served another such a backhand turn!”
“Now, don’t you waste your breath talking slum!” recommended Wragby kindly. “A regular out-and-outer is the Captain, and so you’ll find afore you’re much older! You come along of me! Asking your pardon, sir, if you mean to go off, you’d best see the Colonel first.”
“I am going to find him now,” said Gideon. “Don’t let this fellow slip through your fingers!”
“What, me?” said Wragby, affronted. “It would take a better man than that silly bite to slip through my fingers, sir!”