"They've got the Green in excellent shape again. The Ecclesthorpians," said the parson, "don't like the match outside."
All this and more Dick knew already; for he had ears as keen as his eyes, and words travel better to the coachman than from him.
"Then Ah'll drive 'ee to t' 'George,' sir," he said.
Twenty minutes later the St. Asaph's brake, wheelers at a swinging trot and the leader cantering in his best form, bowled through Ecclesthorpe-on-the-Moor, and drew up with a clatter and a scrape before "The Royal George."
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SERANG.
The inn stood midway in one side of the village green, which was already surrounded with walking groups as well as stationary ranks awaiting patiently the opening of the game. For Ecclesthorpe had a name in its county, owning two families of hereditary professionals, as well as a lord of the manor, who, before the war, had kept wicket in three Test Matches, while the workman's club from Millsborough, captained this year by Dixon Mallaby, a 'Varsity Blue, had already a quarter of a century's repute of being hard to beat. So from far and wide those who had not gone to Timsdale-Horton races came always on the third Saturday in June to the "Ecclesthorpe Fixture."
As he brought his horses to a stand, Dick perceived that, while some notice was given to the oddity of his team, scarce a glance was bestowed on its unusual driver. The visiting eleven were the objects of interest to the straggling crowd in front of "The George."
When he had helped Amaryllis down from her perch, he lit a fresh gasper from the yellow packet, and methodically assisted the ostler to unhitch the horses; but just as the leader stepped free, a smart motor, coming from the south-west, hooted impatiently for space to reach the door of the inn.