"Your tongue wags, young man," says the fat old lady to me. "But it appears to me you did little in the defence you boasted of some time ago."
"I can't abide cold steel at my ears," said I. "Alas that I was born to encounter so redoubtable a captain!"
"You are a soldier," says she angrily, "and you see us robbed and put about like this."
"Why, I can endure any ordinary tobyman," said I. "But this fellow is the very devil. I think any man may be excused to surrender to so vehement an antagonist. His bark's his bite," says I.
"Harringay, my smelling-salts," says she petulantly.
"I—I have 'em not," stammers he.
"No," said I. "'Tis all along of this gentleman with the barkers. See you. Mr Harringay and I have had to yield up; and if one of Mr Harringay's spirit hath done so, why, I think it no shame myself. But indeed," I went on, struck with a comic idea, "we are neither of us in need of shame, for I believe this gentleman to be a notorious gentleman of the road with a terrible reputation. Is't not so, sir?" says I.
"You are at liberty to believe what you will," says he, but in a milder voice.
"I have heard of these gentlemen," I went on, "and from his description I would take oath this is not other than Galloping Dick, Dick Ryder, that is a terror on the highways. Is it so?" says I again.
"What if I be?" says he; and I believe the huff was well pleased, as indeed he might be.