He moved towards me with a degree of agility which was incredible to his multitudinous years.
“Man!” I cried.
Putting my hand upon his shoulder I drove him back against the cushions with a degree of vigour which nearly sent him through them. I think it occasioned him surprise. For the moment he seemed to be able to do nothing else but gasp.
I daresay I should have stopped the carriage, only just at that moment another brougham came tearing along, which, the moment it passed, was drawn right across our path. We stopped, perforce, with a jerk, and, I suspect, with remarks from our driver. The other stopped also, somebody jumped out, and there, standing in the road, looking in at us, was the brown man.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE SINGULAR WOOING
He looked very nice—it is a principle of mine to tell the truth always, or, at least, nearly always; so I will go so far as to assert that he looked positively delicious. Because he did. He wore no overcoat. As he stood at the open door, with his hat in his hand, and just that flavour of impertinence about his smile and bearing and general deportment which does become some men, he struck me—even in that moment of so many agitations—not only as being extremely good-looking, which he undoubtedly was, but also as one of those recklessly, and criminally, delightful persons with whom one could hardly help having a really first-rate time. His manner, when he spoke, was suavity itself. He had a pleasant voice, and a take-it-for-granted air which was in keeping with his mischievous eyes and his moustache and his white waistcoat.
“I thought it was you.” Did he? How good of him! What business had he to think about it at all? “There has been a misunderstanding. My sister directed you to the wrong carriage. This is my sister’s carriage. May I ask you to take the trouble to transfer yourself to it.”
I hesitated, or I should have hesitated, had it not been for that wicked and presumptuous old man.
“Who are you, sir? What do you mean by detaining my carriage, sir? Go away, sir, and shut the door, and allow my carriage to proceed. This lady is with me.”
She might be, but not intentionally, and the even dim suggestion that she was, was sufficient to settle the question on the spot. I paid no attention to him whatever. I addressed myself solely and entirely to the brown man.