"Oh, is it!" repeated Black Whiskers, scowling. "Why, very well, then--'ere's to show 'im 'oo's 'oo!" and he reached for a heavy riding-whip that lay on the floor beside him. "Sit still, Mr. Vokes--remain seated, lest I pink you!" commanded Anthony, saluting him with the Captain's cane as if it had been a sword. The man Vokes stared, swore and rose up, whip in hand, whereupon Anthony lunged gracefully, thrusting the cane so extremely accurately into the middle of Mr. Vokes' waistcoat that he doubled up with marked suddenness and fell back helpless in his chair, groaning and gasping painfully. "Now, my lads," quoth Anthony cheerily, as he picked up the whip, "the word is 'horses'! Come, bustle now!" and he cracked the whip like a pistol shot. "Lord love me!" exclaimed the landlord, retreating precipitately. "I never see no thin' like this 'ere--no, never!" "That'll do, my lad, that'll do!" said Anthony, flourishing the whip. "In six minutes or so I expect the chaise at the door." "But I can't drive a hoss wot's cast a shoe, can I, sir?" whined the postillion, his eye on the whip. "You can get another, my lad." "Theer ain't no other 'oss nowhere, except Mr. Vokes' mare!" quoth the ostler. "Then of course Mr. Vokes will be glad to lend us his mare, I'm sure." But here Black Whiskers found voice and breath for a very decided negative, with divers gasping allusions to Anthony's eyes and limbs. Hereupon Anthony betook him again to his posture of _escrime_, the cane-point levelled threateningly within a foot of Mr. Vokes' already outraged person. "Fellow," said he, "next time address me as 'sir'--and say 'yes'!" For a moment the flinching Mr. Yokes paused to eye the levelled cane, the ready hand and fierce grey eyes behind it, then spoke the desired words in voice scarcely audible by reason of pain and passion; but they sufficed, the cane was lowered, the whip cracked, and forthwith into the yard filed landlord, ostler and postillion with us at their heels. And here by aid of flickering lanthorns, amid wind and rain, the horses were harnessed and put to, the chaise brought to the door where stood one cloaked and hooded who, with Anthony's ready assistance, climbed nimbly into the chaise. "Anthony--your pistol!" and I handed it to him. "Take care," said I, as he thrust it carelessly into his bosom. "Tush!" he laughed, "had it been loaded I should have blown out what brains I have days ago!" "Good-bye, Anthony!" said I, and, or ever he could prevent, thrust a guinea into his hand. For a moment I thought he would toss it in my face, then he thrust it into his pocket. "Egad, Perry!" said he, seizing my hand in his vital clasp. "You are a devilish--likeable fellow and--d'ye see--what I mean is--oh, dammit! Look for me at Tonbridge." Having said which, he sprang down the steps, entered the chaise and banged to the door. But now at the open window was a lovely face. "Good-bye--Peregrine," and with the word she reached out her hand to me.