coat.
"Good morrow to you, Master Wilton Brown," said the stranger, pulling up
his horse as soon as he had reached him: "we are riding along the same
road, I find, and may as well keep companionship as we go. These are sad
times, and the roads are dangerous."
"They are, indeed, my good sir," replied Wilton, who was, in general,
not without that capability of putting down intrusion at a word, which,
strangely enough, is sometimes a talent of the lowest and meanest order
of frivolous intellects, but is almost always found in the firm and
decided--"they are, indeed, if I may judge by what you and I saw last
night."
The stranger did not move a muscle, but answered, quite coolly, "Ay, sad
doings though, sad doings: you knocked that fellow down smartly--a neat
blow, as I should wish to see: I thought you would have shot one of
them, for my part."
"It is a pity you had not been beforehand with me," answered Wilton:
"you seemed to have been some time enjoying the sport when we came up."
The stranger now laughed aloud. "No, no," he said, "that would not do; I
could not interfere; I am not conservator of the King's Highway; and,
for my part, it should always be open for gentlemen to act as they
liked, though I would not take any share in the matter for the world."
"There is such a thing," replied Wilton, not liking his companion at
all--"there is such a thing as taking no share in the risk, and a share
in the profit."
A quick flush passed over the horseman's cheek, but remained not a
moment. "That is not my case," he replied, in a graver tone than he had
hitherto used; "not a stiver would I have taken that came out of the
good Duke's pocket, had it been to save me from starving. I take no
money from any but an enemy; and when we cannot carry on the war with
them in the open field, I do not see why we should not carry it on with
them in any way we can. But to attack a friend, or an indifferent
person, is not at all in my way."
"Oh! I begin to understand you somewhat more clearly," replied Wilton;
"but allow me to say, my good sir, that it were much better not to talk
to me any more upon such subjects. By so doing, you run a needless risk
yourself, and can do neither of us any good. Of course," he added,
willing to change the conversation, "it was Sir John Fenwick who told
you my name."
"Yes," replied the other; "but it was needless, for I knew it before."
"And yet," said Wilton, "I do not remember that we ever met."
"There you are mistaken," answered the t