So without more ado he invited me into the chaise, and then conceive me sitting in miss's place, the horse's heads turned again for the south, and Sir Damon and Dick Ryder chatting agreeably and affably together as they had been sworn friends or long acquaintances.
At least 'twas I that chatted, and he was mostly silent in an amicable enough way, interjecting a question, or commenting with satiric humour, what time we lurched along towards Ewell and Epsom. But now you will have an inkling of my design when I say that if this old fox was permitted to return straightway to town he would no doubt set the officers on his enemy and have him forthwith lodged in the jug. Maybe, thought I to myself, with a little trickery and a little persuasion of my own kind, that could be prevented and the boy have a run for his life at the least. So that was why we were jogging along the Epsom Road through a dark and miry night on the track (as he thought) of the runaways.
Presently, interrupting a tale of mine about Jeremy Starbottle, says he, bluffly,—
"We seem no nearer, sir. It would look as if your horses were superior to mine."
"Why," said I, in answer, "'tis odds they'll keep this road, for the sideways are foul and lead nowhither. Moreover, they will not expect to be pursued. We shall fetch 'em presently."
"Very well," says he, lying back, "but I beg you will give me a little leave. I was shortened of my nap this afternoon."
Now this was a plain hint, as you see, for me to hold my tongue, but I took no offence, for there was no occasion. "Sir," said I, "I am mum. I do not overstay my welcome," and I too lay back.
For some time we proceeded in silence; but presently, the chaise jogging more than usual, he sat up.
"It seems to me," said he, "that we are upon a wild-goose chase, we shall not catch him in this wilderness."