He drew rein before the inn-door, and called to the people within. A man came out, and took the bridle as he dismounted.
"What is the name of this place?" he asked.
"Frimley, sir—Frimley Common it's called by rights. But folks call it
Frimley for short."
"How far am I from the river-bank at the bottom of Thorpe Hill?"
"A good six miles, sir."
"Take my horse and rub him down. Give him a pail of gruel and a quart of oats. I shall want to start again in less than an hour."
"Sharp work, sir," answered the ostler. "Your horse seems to have done plenty already."
"That is my business," said Sir Reginald, haughtily.
He went into the inn.
"Is there a room in which I can dry my coat?" he asked at the bar.