Groslow whistled and a sailor appeared.
“Patrick,” said Groslow, “take this horse to the stables of the nearest inn. If any one asks you whose it is you can say that it belongs to an Irish gentleman.”
The sailor departed without reply.
“Now,” said Mordaunt, “are you not afraid that they will recognize you?”
“There is no danger, dressed as I am in this pilot coat, on a night as dark as this. Besides even you didn’t recognize me; they will be much less likely to.”
“That is true,” said Mordaunt, “and they will be far from thinking of you.
Everything is ready, is it not?”