saw one of the ostlers go up to the post-chaise and heard him say, 'Soon
back, Jimmie?'

'Ay, and I ha' been stopped too,' the postboy answered as he dropped his
reins.

'No!' in a tone of surprise. 'Was it Black Jack?'

'Not he. 'Twas a woman!'

A murmur of astonishment greeted the answer. The postboy grinned, and
sitting easily in his pad prepared to enjoy the situation. 'Ay, a
woman!' he said. 'And a rare pair of eyes to that. What do you think she
wanted, lads?'

'The stuff, of course.'

'Not she. Wanted one of them I took'--and he jerked his elbow
contemptuously in the direction whence he had come--'to fight a duel for
her. One of they! Said, was he Mr. Berkeley, and would he risk his life
for a woman.'

The head ostler stared. 'Lord! and who was it he was to fight?' he asked
at last.

'She did not say. Her spark maybe, that has jilted her.'

'And would they, Jimmie?'

'They? Shoo! They were Methodists,' the postboy answered contemptuously,