Side by side with arms entwined they stood, to
watch young Barnabas, and in the eyes of each, an expression so much
alike, yet so dissimilar. Then, with a flourish of his hat, Barnabas
went on down the road, past the finger-post, with Milo of Crotona's
small top-boots twinkling at his side.
"Sir," said he suddenly, speaking in an awed tone, "is she a real
Doochess--the little old 'un?"
"Yes," nodded Barnabas, "very real. Why, Imp?"
"'Cos I called 'er a child, I did--Lord! An' then she--she kissed me,
she did, sir--which ain't much in my line, it ain't. But she give
me a guinea, sir, an' she likewise whispered in my ear, she did."
"Oh?" said Barnabas, thinking of Cleone--"whispered, did she?"
"Ah! she says to me--quick like, sir,--she says, 'tell 'im,' she
says--meaning you, sir, 'tell 'im to beware o' Wilfred Chichester!'
she says."
CHAPTER XLVIII
IN WHICH "THE TERROR," HITHERTO KNOWN AS "FOUR-LEGS,"
JUSTIFIES HIS NEW NAME
The chill of dawn was in the air as the chaise began to rumble over
the London cobble-stones, whereupon Master Milo (who for the last
hour had slumbered peacefully, coiled up in his corner like a kitten)
roused himself, sat suddenly very upright, straightened his cap and
pulled down his coat, broad awake all at once, and with his eyes as
round and bright as his buttons.
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