The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. “Indeed, no,” he answered.
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