But when they had gone some distance in moody silence, the Viscount spoke:
"Beverley," said he, "forewarned is forearmed!"
"Yes," answered Barnabas, "that is why I told you."
"Then," said the Viscount, "I think we'll—shake hands—after all."
The which they did forthwith.
Now it was at this moment that Milo of Crotona took it upon himself to become visible.
CHAPTER XIV
CONCERNING THE BUTTONS OF ONE MILO OF CROTONA
Never did a pair of top boots, big or little, shine with a lustre more resplendent; never was postilion's jacket more excellent of fit, nattier, or more carefully brushed; and nowhere could there be found two rows of crested silver buttons with such an air of waggish roguery, so sly, so knowing, and so pertinaciously on the everlasting wink, as these same eight buttons that adorned the very small person of his groomship, Milo of Crotona. He had slipped out suddenly from the hedge, and now stood cap in hand, staring from the Viscount to Barnabas, and back again, with his innocent blue eyes, and with every blinking, twinkling button on his jacket. And his eyes were wide and guileless—the eyes of a cherub; but his buttons!
Yea, forsooth, it was all in his buttons as they winked slyly one to another as much as to say: