"Aye, to be sure, sir. Then just step into the stable wi' me!"
Wondering, I obeyed and beheld a hissing ostler rubbing down a dusty horse.
"Why, this animal is mine!" I exclaimed. "This is Caesar, one of my saddle horses."
"Aye, to be sure, sir!" nodded Mr. Shrig. "Wiciousness has been a-ridin' in that theer chaise an' Windictiveness a-gallopin' arter on your 'oss. P'raps you can likewise tell me who't was as rode your 'oss?"
"No," I answered, "unless—good heaven, can it be Anthony—my friend
Mr. Vere-Manville?"
"Name sounds familiar!" said Mr. Shrig, rubbing his nose thoughtfully, while his keen gaze roved here and there.
"Where is Captain Danby—I want a word with him," said I, stepping hastily out of the stable.
"The Cap'n, sir," answered Mr. Shrig close to my elbow, "havin' partook of a glass o' brandy an' vater, has took a little valk a-top of it, an' the evenin' bein' so fine or as you might say balmy, I think we'll go a-valking too—"
Reaching the narrow street I espied the tall, lounging form of Captain Danby some considerable distance ahead and instinctively hastened my steps.
"Verefore the hurry, sir?" enquired Mr. Shrig, laying a finger on my arm.