forget, and I lose my temper. So, a bond-servant should cut
his throat," he continued, as he swung lightly into the saddle.
"I fear 't is the only way I can go undiscovered. Fool that I
was to do it in a moment of passion. Five years of slavery!"
Then he laughed. "But then I'd never have seen her! Egad,
if she could be painted as she looked to-day by Reynolds or
Gainsborough, 'twould set more than my blood glowing!
There's a prize, Joggles! Beauty, wealth, and freedom, all in
one. She'd be worth a tilt, too, if for nothing but the sport of
it. We'll shave, make a dandy of ourselves, old man--"
Then the servant paused--"and, like a fool, be recognised by
some fellow like Clowes--what does he here?--but for my
beard, and that he'd scarce expect to meet Charles--" Fownes
checked himself, scowling. "Charles Nothing, a poor son of
a gun of a bond-servant. Have done with such idiot schemes,
man," he admonished. "For what did you run, if 't was not
to bury yourself? And now you 'd risk all for a petticoat."
Taking from his pocket the razor, he threw it into the bushes
that lined the road, saying as he did so, "Good-by, gentility."


VI
MEN ARE DECEIVERS EVER

The departure of the bond-servant, leaving the sting
of innuendo behind him, had turned all eyes toward
the traveller, and Bagby but voiced the curiosity of
the roomful when he inquired, "What did Fownes
call you spy for?"