“It’s not by sea alone that Plymouth is brisk,” continued the gentleman of the road; “but by land as well. And the country between that town and London offers many opportunities to a man of parts.”
“Ay. I’ve heard it said often that it was a most excellent farming section.”
“Good strokes of business are to be done thereabouts,” continued Hatfield. “My last visit there,” and he slapped the breast of his coat with a chuckle, “promises to pay me a pretty penny, indeed.”
“The luck was with you, then?” cried the pastry cook with innocent interest.
“It was,” laughed Hatfield. “It was very much with me, sir.”
“He still has the dispatch,” whispered Ethan to Dale.
“In his breast pocket,” returned the sailor, in the same low tone. “But he is armed.”
“If we take him suddenly we’ll have the advantage for all that.”
The pastry cook and the highwayman continued their talk; the two Americans had their heads together, thrashing out the situation.
“It’s dark without,” said Ethan at last, guardedly. “We’ll take him unawares when he is about to mount his horse.”