"The only man with whom I travelled for any length of time was a fellow whose soul seemed to lie in his portmanteau."
"Then it was like the soul of the licentiate Pedro Garcias, which lay among the ducats in his leathern purse. That man has been robbed, and he has lodged an information against you, as connected with the violence done to him."
"You jest, Miss Vernon!"
"I do not, I assure you—the thing is an absolute fact."
"And do you," said I, with strong indignation, which I did not attempt to suppress, "do you suppose me capable of meriting such a charge?"
"You would call me out for it, I suppose, had I the advantage of being a man—You may do so as it is, if you like it—I can shoot flying, as well as leap a five-barred gate."
"And are colonel of a regiment of horse besides," replied I, reflecting how idle it was to be angry with her—"But do explain the present jest to me."
"There's no jest whatever," said Diana; "you are accused of robbing this man, and my uncle believes it as well as I did."
"Upon my honour, I am greatly obliged to my friends for their good opinion!"
"Now do not, if you can help it, snort, and stare, and snuff the wind, and look so exceedingly like a startled horse—There's no such offence as you suppose—you are not charged with any petty larceny or vulgar felony—by no means. This fellow was carrying money from Government, both specie and bills, to pay the troops in the north; and it is said he has been also robbed of some despatches of great consequence."