"Ah, Mr. Shrig," said I, "if this is the chaise you are so interested
about, I think I can tell you who rode in it."
"And who would you name, sir?"
"Captain Danby," I answered.
"Aye, to be sure, sir. Then just step into the stable wi' me!"
Wondering, I obeyed and beheld a hissing ostler rubbing down a dusty
horse.
"Why, this animal is mine!" I exclaimed. "This is Caesar, one of my
saddle horses."
"Aye, to be sure, sir!" nodded Mr. Shrig. "Wiciousness has been
a-ridin' in that theer chaise an' Windictiveness a-gallopin' arter on
your 'oss. P'raps you can likewise tell me who't was as rode your
'oss?"
"No," I answered, "unless--good heaven, can it be Anthony--my friend
Mr. Vere-Manville?"
"Name sounds familiar!" said Mr. Shrig, rubbing his nose thoughtfully,
while his keen gaze roved here and there.
"Where is Captain Danby--I want a word with him," said I, stepping
hastily out of the stable.
"The Cap'n, sir," answered Mr. Shrig close to my elbow, "havin'
partook of a glass o' brandy an' vater, has took a little valk a-top
of it, an' the evenin' bein' so fine or as you might say balmy, I
think we'll go a-valking too--"
Reaching the narrow street I espied the tall, lounging form of Captain
Danby some considerable distance ahead and instinctively hastened my
steps.
"Verefore the hurry, sir?" enquired Mr. Shrig, laying a finger on my
arm.
"I must speak with yonder scoundrel."
"Scoundrel is the werry i-dentical vord, sir--but bide a bit--easy it
is.
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