With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. "Yes; but what is good isn't always proper. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black.
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