“How’s that, Garth?”
“Kase ye see Old Wyk an’ hae had a leetlish bit o’ a quarrel—oncest on a time; an’ if he war to see me agin, he might remember that ere diff’rence atween us, an’ jug me. I’ll take yer letters to the tothers; an’ him last o’ all, if ye insist on’t; but if ye do, Master Henry, I won’t promise to bring back any answers.”
“Never mind him, then,” said the cavalier, appearing to give up the idea of communicating with the Wycombe Justice. “You can safely visit all the others, I suppose?”
Gregory nodded assent.
“You must start at once. Ah! I did not think of it; you will stand in need of a horse?”
“No, I woant,” replied the footpad, with a significant smile, “I’ve got one.”
“Oh! the horse you—”
The cavalier hesitated to finish the speech that had risen to his tongue.
“Why, ye-e-s,” drawled the ex-footpad, “it’s a anymal as has done the King sarvice; an’ I doant see why it shudn’t now be employed in the sarvice o’ the People. If I be allowed to ha’ my guess, Master Henry, I shud say, that’s the errand on which ye be sendin’ me.”
“It is,” assented the cavalier, with emphasis.