Sir John Dering: A romantic comedy

by Jeffery Farnol

“I left him at ‘The Cross,’ but he usually walks abroad of an evening.”

“Aye, so ’e do, Mus’ Robert ... but ... doan’t ’ee let ’im goo out o’ your sight this night.”

“Why not? What d’ye mean, George?”

“Well, rackon it bean’t no-wise ’ealthy-like for Sir John to goo a-walkin’ to-night alone, ah—an’ p’r’aps not then.”

“And why? Ah ... d’ye think——”

“Aye, I do think!” nodded Mr. Potter. “I think as mebbe Murder’ll be a-walkin’ to-night.”

“Murder?” repeated the Corporal, falling back a step. “Murder? What d’ye mean, man? Speak plain.”

“Why, then, I means plain murder.”

“Who d’ye mean, George?”