"I guessed as much," I nodded, and forthwith plunged into an
account of my meeting with the "craggy one," the which seemed to
amuse Mr. Beverley mightily, more especially when I related
Cragg's mysterious disappearance.
"Oh, gad!" cried Beverley, wiping his eyes on the tattered lapel
of his coat, "the resemblance served you luckily there; your
cousin gave him the thrashing of his life, and poor Tom evidently
thought he was in for another. That was the last you saw of him,
I'll be bound."
"No, I met him afterwards beneath the gibbet on River Hill,
where, among other incomprehensible things, he gave me to
understand that he recognized me despite my disguise, assumed, as
he supposed, on account of his having kidnapped some one or
other, and 'laid out' a certain Sir Jasper Trent in Wych Street
according to my orders, or rather, it would seem, my cousin's
orders, the author of which outrage Sir Jasper had evidently
found out--"
"The devil!" exclaimed Mr. Beverley, and sat up with a jerk.
"And furthermore," I went on, "he informed me that the Prince
himself had given him the word to leave London until the affair
had blown over."
Now while I spoke, Mr. Beverley had been regarding me with a very
strange expression, his cheeks had gone even paler than before,
his eyes seemed to stare through, and beyond me, and his hands
were tight-clenched at his sides.
"Mr. Beverley," said I, "what ails you?"
For a moment he did not speak, then answered, with the same
strange look: "Sir Jasper Trent--is my cousin, sir."
My negro-head pipe slipped suddenly, and fell into the grass,
happily without injury.
"Indeed!" said I.
"Can you not see what this means, sir?" he went on hurriedly.
"Jasper will fight."
"Indeed," said I again, "I fear so."
"Jasper was always a bit of a fish, and with no particular
affection for his graceless kinsman, but I am his only relative;
and--and he hardly knows one end of a pistol from the other,
while your cousin is a dead shot."
"My cousin!" I exclaimed; "then if was he--to be sure I saw only
his back."
"Sir Jasper is unmarried--has no relations but myself," my
companion repeated, with the same fixed intentness of look; "can
you appreciate, I wonder, what this would mean to me?"
"Rank, and fortune, and London," said I.