"And then the men behind began cheering, and those two horrid faces grew quite silly and good-natured. And when you waggled your whip at them they grinned and waved their hands, and one of them shouted something meant to be jolly."
"It just means, lovey," he answered, "that they made up their minds it was a beano after all, and that they'd got wind up about nothing. The mongrel sportsman and the bashful wench in a sun-bonnet were after all, they thought, a genuine substitute for Ned Blossom."
"Did you play for that?" she asked.
"Oh, well!" he answered vaguely; then added: "Don't worry, my lass. 'Tis all well for a while."
He kept his horses on a steady strain until the long rise was topped, and then climbed down from his seat and let them breathe, tightening this and feeling that about their tackle, until each horse was tricked into believing itself the object of especial interest; a belief of which Amaryllis saw the effect in three pairs of swivelling ears. At last, having lighted a cigarette dug from a yellow packet which he must have bought, she was sure, at "The Goat in Boots," he climbed back to her with this unusual ornament hanging stickily from his under lip.
The team started again willingly as he drew the reins softly in through his fingers; but for a while he kept them walking.
Then he turned to Mr. Dixon Mallaby.
"Parson," he said, "Ah've Ned Blossom's repitation to consider. Ah'll take 'em along easy-like, leastways if you're not in a hurry. Then you gives me the word when us be nobbut half mile from tha pull-up, an' I'll let 'em out champion."
"You don't know Ecclesthorpe, then?" said Dixon Mallaby.
"I dunno this ro'd," replied Dick. "If 'ee play match in Rectory field, Ah be to drive 'ee there, Ah reckon."