Well?"
"Why then I kicked him, m' lud, an' he turned round an' give me this
'ere."
"And what was Sir Mortimer's friend like?"
"A tall--werry sleepy gentleman, wot smiled, m' lud."
"Ha!" exclaimed the Viscount, starting; "and with a scar upon one
cheek?"
"Yes, m'lud."
His Lordship frowned. "That would be Chichester," said he
thoughtfully. "Now I wonder what the devil should bring that fellow
so far from London?"
"Well, m' lud," suggested Milo, shaking his golden curls, "I kind of
'specks there's a woman at the bottom of it. There mostly generally
is."
"Hum!" said the Viscount.
"'Sides, m' lud, I 'eard 'im talkin' 'bout a lady to S' Mortimer!"
"Did they mention her name?"
"The sleepy one 'e did, m' lud. Jist as S' Mortimer climbed into the
chaise--'Here's wishing you luck wi' the lovely Meredyth,' 'e sez."
"Meredith!" exclaimed the Viscount.
"Meredith, m' lud; 'the lovely Meredith,' 'e sez, an' then, as he
stood watchin' the chaise drive away, 'may the best man win,' sez 'e
to himself, 'an' that's me,' sez'e."
"Boy," said the Viscount, "have the horses put to--at once."
"Werry good, m' lud," and, touching his small hat, Milo of Crotona
turned and set off as fast as his small legs would carry him.
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