"This is the young man, sir," said Charles's new friend.
Lieutenant Hornby was looking at Charles, and after a pause, said—
"I take him on your recommendation, Sloane. I have no doubt he will do. He seems a good fellow. You are a good fellow, ain't you?" he continued, addressing Charles personally, with that happy graceful insolence which is the peculiar property of prosperous and entirely amiable young men, and which charms one in spite of oneself.
Charles replied, "I am quarrelsome sometimes among my equals, but I am always good-tempered among horses."
"That will do very well. You may punch the other two lads' heads as much as you like. They don't mind me; perhaps they may you. You will be over them. You will have the management of everything. You will have unlimited opportunities of robbing and plundering me, with an entire absence of all chance of detection. But you won't do it. It isn't your line, I saw at once. Let me look at your hand."
Charles gave him the great ribbed paw which served him in that capacity. And Hornby said—
"Ha! Gentleman's hand. No business of mine. Don't wear that ring, will you? A groom mustn't wear such rings as that. Any character?"
Charles showed him the letter Lord Ascot had written.
"Lord Ascot, eh? I know Lord Welter, slightly."
"The deuce you do," thought Charles.