Hero raised her head from the window-sill to reply: “Of c-course I am not! I have not my p-purse with me!”
“Oh, my God!” muttered Mr Tarleton. “Now we are in the basket!”
“I wish I were dead!” responded Hero.
“No, no, don’t do that! Heavens, what a coil! But how could I have guessed — My dear child, you cannot stay there! Do, pray, come down, and into the inn! Really, I don’t know whether I am on my head or my heels!” He mounted the steps, which the ostler had helpfully let down, and opened the door of the chaise, only to have his entrance to the vehicle hotly disputed by Pug. He recoiled, exclaiming: “Good God, what possessed you to bring that creature?”
“It was your fault!” Hero said, from the folds of her handkerchief. She blew her nose defiantly. “I did not want to bring him, and oh, I thought it was j-just like Sherry to throw him in on t-top of me!”
“Don’t, pray don’t begin to cry again!” implored the harassed Mr Tarleton. “We shall have the whole stable-yard about us in a trice! Only come inside the house, and I will set all to rights!”
“No one can set all to rights, for I am utterly ruined!” declared Hero. “My husband was c-coming to dine with me and I shall not be there, and he will never, never speak to m-me again! And if he finds out this dreadful scrape you have put me into it will be worse than all the rest!”
Mr Tarleton took her hand and helped her to alight from the chaise. “He shall not discover it. We will make up some tale that will satisfy him. But who — why — No, come into the inn, where we can be private! As for you, fellow, you must wait! Go into the tap-room and order yourself a glass of flesh-and-blood at my expense! And here’s a crown for you to keep your mouth shut!”
The postboy pocketed this douceur, but warned his client not to try to lope off without paying him for the hire of his horses. Mr Tarleton somewhat testily demanded to be told how he could do any such thing in his present pecuniary circumstances, and led Hero into the inn. Here he peremptorily ordered the landlord to show the lady into a private parlour. When this had been done, and landlord had rejoined him in the deserted coffee-room, he explained, with what assurance he could muster, that he had been robbed of his wallet and purse. The landlord was civil, but palpably incredulous, so Mr Tarleton haughtily said: “Here is my card, fellow!” Almost immediately after this he was obliged to correct himself. “No, curse it, that’s gone with the rest! But my name is Tarleton — of Frensham Hall, near Swainswick! You will have heard of it! I am escorting a — a friend to Wells — at least, I was doing so, but it so chances that she has discovered that she has left behind her in Bath a most important — er — package, and we are obliged to return there with what speed we can muster. Do me the favour of paying oft that postboy — or no! Better still, let one of your own boys or their cards lead the horses back here, and let my postboy drive us back to Bath with a fresh pair! You and he may thus be assured of receiving your money. Meanwhile — ”
The landlord, who had been thinking, interrupted at this point. “Begging your honour’s pardon, if you live at Frensham Hall, how do you come to be travelling to Wells in a hired chaise?”