William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. It’s no good hiding it any more. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. A boy like John’s dashing friend David Mitchell, someone who shares your love of academics. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed.
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