My lord laughed. "I would play you for the set, and welcome," said he. "But though you will find a pack of cards in every pocket of the coach, the devil a guinea have I left to stake. It's a pity," he added, "for just now I'm in a vein of luck. Only last night I won five games running of our friend on the grey horse, though it seems to be his turn now!"
"Galloping Jack is hard to beat at any game he chooses to play," answered the gipsy, in whose ear Waif had whispered a few hurried words. "Nevertheless, win or lose, he's far enough by this time. It takes a bird of the air to catch Jack when he gets his spurs into the grey."
"Confound him!" said his lordship heartily, reflecting that, by all the rules of fair-play, this enterprising highwayman was now riding into safety with _his_ money on _his_ horse. "Drink up your liquor, my good friends, and let us make some arrangements for the future. I presume you do not wish us to remain unsheltered on the downs all night?"
"Not an inch will I stir without my diamonds!" exclaimed his wife. "Mind that, my lord. If they go into captivity, I go too!"
"And I humbly hope, as is my bounden duty, to attend your ladyship," added Mistress Rachel, trying hard to blush, while she stole another look in her guardian's gipsy face.
Fin Cooper scratched his handsome black head in some perplexity. Of all incumbrances, the last he would have chosen was a lady of quality, with her waiting gentlewoman. How was he to get them to the tents? What was he to do with them when there? If retained as hostages they would give more trouble than they were worth; and such a speculation promised no great profit, for Lord Bellinger's easy indifference seemed to infer neither high ransom nor prompt payment. Fin would rather have foregone jewels, lady, and lady's-maid, than be hampered with all three.
Again he consulted Waif, and, after the interchange of a few brief sentences in their own language, of which my lord, listening intently for all his assumed carelessness, could only catch the words "fakement" (a piece of work), "fashono" (fictitious), and "balanser" (a pound sterling), cleared his brows, and made a profound bow to her ladyship, with all the politeness of a dancing-master.