"Perry!" he exclaimed, "O Perry--did you hear her?" And crossing to the little mirror he stood to behold his reflection again. "She has given me back my self-respect!" said he. And then, "Oh, for a barber!" he groaned. "Damn this stubble. I look like an accursed gooseberry! And now for the chaise, she must be safe with her aunt to-night, sweet soul. And she trusts me, Perry--me!" Here he turned to scowl at his reflection again. "An angel!" he murmured. "But Anthony, if one of the horses has cast a shoe--" "Shoe?" he repeated dreamily. "The prettiest, daintiest shoe in all Christendom. I noticed it particularly as she stood there--on that old, worn mat--" Seeing him so lost, I ventured to shake his arm and repeat my query, whereupon he roused and nodded. "To be sure. Perry, to be sure! We must persuade our ostler and postboy to find us another--let us see to it forthwith!" So saying, he picked up Captain Danby's heavy cane and with it gripped in purposeful hand, led the way from the room. CHAPTER VIII I AM LEFT FORLORN At the extreme end of a narrow and somewhat dingy passage we came on a door, from behind which proceeded a din of voices in loud confabulation, together with much jingling of glasses, so that I judged the worthies we sought were engaged upon what I believe is known as "making a night of it." This hoarse babel ended suddenly as, opening the door, Anthony strode in, his whole person and attitude suggestive of that air I have already mentioned as one of polite ferocity. "Aha!" said he, feet wide-planted, Captain Danby's stout cane bending in his powerful hands. "How far is it to Sevenoaks, pray?" "Better nor seven mile!" answered the surly landlord, setting down his spirit-glass. "Ah, all o' that!" nodded the ostler over his tankard. "Every bit!" added the postboy. "An' 'oo might you be?" demanded an individual in top-boots, a large man chiefly remarkable for a pair of fierce, black whiskers and a truculent eye. "Seven miles!" exclaimed Anthony, unheeding his interrupter. "I had feared it shorter--oh, excellent! Now my lads, we require the chaise--up with you, set to the horses and be ready to start in ten minutes at most. Come--bustle!" "Lord!" exclaimed Black Whiskers, "You'd think 'e was a nearl or a jook to 'ear un--'oo is 'e?" "Why, it's 'im as we was tellin' you of, Mr. Vokes!" quoth the landlord. "'Is werry own selluf!" nodded the postboy. "The desp'rit cove as gie me the one-er!" added the ostler. "Aye, Mr. Vokes," continued the landlord with unction, "this is 'im as committed the 'ssault an' battery on 'is betters." "Oh, is it?" said Mr. Vokes, nodding in highly menacing fashion. "Ah!" nodded the landlord. "An' then goes for to make us go for to nigh drownd the pore, unfort'nate genelman in my own 'oss-trough, an' 'im now a-sneezin' an' a-groanin' an' a-swearin' in bed fit to break your 'eart. 'Ere be the desp'rit rogue as done the deed!"