"Somebody want me?"
"That there man, sir--you know," said the waiter. "Here again,
sir--stable-yard, sir."
Gilling jumped up and gave Copplestone a look.
"That's Spurge!" he muttered. "He said he'd be back at day-break. Wait
here--I'll fetch him."
CHAPTER XXVI
THE REAVER'S GLEN
Zachary Spurge, presently ushered in by Gilling, who carefully closed
the door behind himself and his companion, looked as if his recent
lodging had been of an even rougher nature than that in which
Copplestone had found him at their first meeting. The rough horseman's
cloak in which he was buttoned to the edge of a red neckerchief and a
stubbly chin was liberally ornamented with bits of straw, scraps of
furze and other odds and ends picked up in woods and hedge-rows. Spurge,
indeed, bore unmistakable evidence of having slept out in wild places
for some nights and his general atmosphere was little more respectable
than that of a scarecrow. But he grinned cheerfully at Copplestone--and
then frowned at Vickers.
"I didn't count for to meet no lawyers, gentlemen," he said, pausing on
the outer boundaries of the parlour, "I ain't a-goin' to talk before
'em, neither!"
"He's a grudge against me--I've had to appear against him once or twice,"
whispered Vickers to Copplestone. "You'd better soothe him down--I want
to know what he's got to tell.
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