His looks did not belie the description the ex-governor had given of him.
“Do you know anything of horses?” was the first question, put to him in French.
“I have been ten years in the stables of Count Teleky. His Excellency knows that.”
“Yes, captain. This young man has been groom to our friend Teleky; and you know the count’s propensity for horseflesh.”
Kossuth spoke of a distinguished Hungarian noble; then, like himself, a refugee in London.
“Enough?” said Maynard, apparently satisfied that Steiner was his man. “Now, Monsieur Karl, I merely want you to call me a cab.”
“Which sort, votre seigneurie?” asked the ex-groom, giving the true stable salute. “Hansom or four-wheeler?”
“Hansom,” replied Maynard, pleased with the man’s sharpness.
“Très bien.”
“And hear me, Monsieur Karl; I want you to select one with a horse that can go. You understand me?”