"Oh," said I, "he cannot be so far in advance—not he with my nags, I'll warrant."
He looked at me doubtfully in the small light. "Very well," he said at last, shortly, "we will try a little longer;" and he peered out upon the night if so be he might determine where we were.
I looked out also, and now we were passing through Carshalton, where I had bid the doves assemble for to meet me. But, damme, my business was not yet done, and the coach rolls creaking out of Carshalton and on the way to Epsom. This seemed to stir the old gentleman again to perplexity, for again he directed a look out of the window, and then another at me. I felt his gaze wander over me from top to boot as if he measured me.
"You have fought abroad," says he at last.
"Not I," says I; and added to that, "There's too many that babble about these foreign wars. Deliver us, a good English war is more to my taste, and better fighting too," says I.
"Ah!" says he, still coolly inspecting me, as if he cared not whether I saw him or not, "then you will have fought in his Majesty's intestine wars?" said he.
"What's that?" said I, turning on him.
"No doubt," said he, suavely, "you have fought, sir, for his Majesty King James against the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth."
"Who gave you leave to suppose I have fought at all?" said I, sharply, being irked by his persistence. "I am no fighting man, but one of peace."