't where she could; though they do
say Whitmore 's trimming sail for her."

"Whitmore?" I echoed.

"Ay, the curate: monstrous clever fellow, and a sportsman too:
Trinity College Dublin man. Don't happen to know him, do you?"

"Is he a thin-faced gentleman, very neatly dressed? Oh, but it can't
be the gentleman I mean, sir! The one I mean has a slow way of
speaking, and the hair seems gone on each side of his forehead--"

"That's Whitmore, to a T. So you know him? Well, you'll meet him at
Lydia's, I shouldn't wonder. He's there most nights."

"If you please, sir, will you set me down? I can shift for myself
somehow--indeed I can! I promised--that is, I mean, Mr. Whitmore
won't like it if--if--"

While I stammered on, Mr. Rogers pulled up the mare, quartering at
the same time to make room for the mail-coach as it thundered up the
road from westward and swept by at the gallop, with lamps flashing
and bits and swingles shaken in chorus.

"Look here, what's the matter?" he demanded. "Why don't you want to
meet Whitmore?" Then as I would not answer but continued to entreat
him, "There's something deuced fishy about you. Here I find you,
stark naked, hiding from the soldiers: yet you can't be one of the
'trade,' for you don't know the country or the folks living
hereabouts--only Whitmore: and Whitmore you won't meet, and your name
you won't tell, nor where you come from--only that you've been
swimming. 'Swimming,' good Lord! You didn't swim from France, I
take it." He flicked his whip and fell into a muse. "And I'm a
Justice of the Peace, and the Lord knows what I'm compounding with."
He mused again. "Tell you what I'll do," he exclaimed; "I'll take
you up to Lydia's as I promised. If Whitmore's there, you shan't
meet him if you don't want to: and if the house is full, I'll drop
you in the shrubbery with the rug, and get them to break up early.
Only I must have your solemn davey that you'll stay there and not
quit until I give you leave. Eh?"

I gave that promise.

"Very well. I'll tip the wink to Lydia, and when we've cleared the
company, we'll have you in and get the rights of this. Oh, you may
trust Lydia!"

As he said this we were passing a house the long whitewashed front of
which abutted glimmering on the road. A light shone behind the blind
of one lower window and showed through a chink under the door.
"The Major 's sitting up late," observed Mr. Rogers, and again
flicked up the mare.