As for Sim and Candlish, I doubt if they crossed my
mind.
At the Green Dragon Rowley was waiting on the doorsteps with the
luggage, and really was bursting with unpalatable conversation.
'Who do you think we've 'ad 'ere, sir?' he began breathlessly, as
the chaise drove off. 'Red Breasts'; and he nodded his head
portentously.
'Red Breasts?' I repeated, for I stupidly did not understand at the
moment an expression I had often heard.
'Ah!' said he. 'Red weskits. Runners. Bow Street runners. Two
on' em, and one was Lavender himself! I hear the other say quite
plain, "Now, Mr. Lavender, IF you're ready." They was breakfasting
as nigh me as I am to that postboy. They're all right; they ain't
after us. It's a forger; and I didn't send them off on a false
scent--O no! I thought there was no use in having them over our
way; so I give them "very valuable information," Mr. Lavender said,
and tipped me a tizzy for myself; and they're off to Luton. They
showed me the 'andcuffs, too--the other one did--and he clicked the
dratted things on my wrist; and I tell you, I believe I nearly went
off in a swound! There's something so beastly in the feel of them!
Begging your pardon, Mr. Anne,' he added, with one of his delicious
changes from the character of the confidential schoolboy into that
of the trained, respectful servant.
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