“Ha!” murmured Sir John, “I thought I recognised it. And we are to go, are we?”
“An’ the sooner the better!” growled the blue-jowled man truculently. Here ex-Corporal Robert, leaving the horses to stand, made preparations for instant action but paused in grim surprise, for Sir John was laughing in sheer, unalloyed delight.
“You hear, Bob, you hear?” he gasped. “Come, let us go.”
“Go, sir!” exclaimed the Corporal. “Go!”
“At once, Bob. So get our valises and effects—I see Mr. Nixon has ’em all ready for us—and let us begone.”
“But—but ... go, is it?” stammered the Corporal, clenching his fists.
“Aye, Bob. Don’t you see we are driven forth of Sir John Dering’s inn on Sir John Dering’s land by men wearing Sir John Dering’s livery and acting under instructions of Sir John Dering’s steward! It is all quite delightfully grotesque! So get our things, Bob, nor seek to ruin so exquisite a situation by violence; let us rather steal humbly away. We will try Alfriston, Bob.”
“Aye, sir!” sighed the Corporal. “But, sir, such meekness, such—horrible meekness, your honour——”
“What of it, Bob?”