" "Stop!" interposed Edgeworth Bess; "Mr. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. "I'll be very glad to take that kind of a job, if you can find it. "Rather cramped, eh?" "Rather so, Sir," replied the other, altering his position.
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