"Your lordship evidently recognises the situation," said Cunningham. "This will save time and trouble, I hope."
"I suppose you want my purse?" replied the peer. "This comes of travelling without my chauffeur," he added plaintively. "By George, if Achille were here, he'd worry you. If I were ten years younger I'd tackle you myself."
"Regrets are futile, my lord," said Cunningham, "but a purse will not satisfy me."
"Oh, you want two, do you? Eva, I'm afraid you'll have to give him yours as well. Shockin' luck for this to happen the first time we've travelled alone. I oughtn't to have let you come."
"Don't worry, dad, please," said Lady Eva. "I'm sorry I haven't got a purse, highwayman," she continued contemptuously, throwing back her thick veil to see what manner of man this could be, "but the few loose sixpences I have in my pocket are quite at your service."
"You may keep them, madam," Cunningham replied, with as much dignity as the occasion would permit. "I do not ask for money. I simply want the loan of a peppercorn and golden horseshoe until the 29th."
"By George, he must be an antiquarian highwayman or a curio-collector gone mad," said his lordship. "D'ye think, sir, I'll give you what I'm taking to the King?"
"His Majesty shall have them, and from your hands, on the proper day. I simply ask for the loan of them till then."
"You must think that I'm a fool," said the Earl. In an instant he had grabbed the hoop of one of the heavy acetylene lamps, and pulled it from its socket. "Take that, you blackguard!" he yelled, flinging it with all his force at the cyclist.
Cunningham dodged the missile, which crashed to the ground with light extinguished.