The Highwayman Read Online Free PDF

Lockwood.”
    “Yes, if that is the Amazon’s name,” he growled.
    “Well,” said Agatha a trifle vaguely, “as to where she is at the moment, I could not say, but I shall certainly tell her that you asked for her when next I see her. However, I fear she is rather busy this morning.”
    The man gave what could only be termed a smirk, and said, “I’ve no doubt she is. As busy as she is cowardly.”
    Agatha thought it best to ignore that remark, and she merely studied him with interest before turning away, saying, “I shall fetch that laudanum for you now.”
    “Miss Wedmore,” he called as she reached the door.
    She paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.
    “Achilles,” he said rather anxiously. “My horse?”
    “Oh,” she assured him, “he took no harm in your recent mishap. He is in our stables at this moment, and I promise you we shall take very good care of him.”
    “My thanks,” he said. “He has seen me safely through more than one difficult situation, and I am rather fond of him.”
    At that, Agatha frowned slightly, wondering if those difficult situations of which he spoke might have something to do with the nefarious activities of a highwayman. But she only nodded before leaving the chamber, saying as she went, “Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Sebast. I shall return shortly.”
    Upon hearing himself called Mr. Sebast, he stared at the door in puzzlement, then shrugged and turned his attention to his meager meal. The misunderstanding was of no consequence and could be cleared up at a later time.
    He was so hungry that, although he would not have admitted it under any circumstances, even the gruel tasted good to him. But when he was done and was once more lying down, he discovered himself to be weaker than ever, as well as exhausted beyond belief. He wanted sleep desperately, but the unremitting pain in his leg would not allow it. And so it was with great relief that he welcomed Agatha back into his chamber a few minutes later and swallowed the bitter concoction she offered without a word of protest.
    Thanking her, he banded the cup back, then said, “Miss Wedmore, there is another service which you could perform for me if it would not be too much trouble.”
    “I should be happy to,” she replied. “If I am able.”
    “My man, Kearny, will be wondering what has become of me. He should be racked up at the village inn by now. I should appreciate it if you would send him a message, telling him that I have been wounded but am on the mend and recommending him to remain where he is until he receives further word from me.”
    “Certainly. You may consider it done,” she told him after only a slight hesitation.
    “You are very kind,” he murmured, his eyelids beginning to droop.
    Agatha gazed at the man lying on the bed, wondering if she should speak what was on her mind. Was he the answer to her prayers, as she had begun to hope, or was he something far otherwise?
    Every instinct told her that he was a gentleman, but she could so easily be mistaken. He could, in truth, be the highwayman who had the entire district on the fidget. The man, Kearny, of whom he had spoken, might well be an accomplice, although she had heard nothing to indicate the existence of such a person. On the other hand, a man who was fond of his horse and worried about its welfare could not be too wicked, could he?
    In the end, she decided that she preferred to place her trust in her female intuition, for it had seldom led her astray.
    That being settled, she sat down in the chair beside the bed, and said, “My good man, I could not help but notice earlier that your feelings towards Miss Lockwood seem to be somewhat—that is, they are a trifle...”
    “Antipathetic?” he supplied, opening his eyes and offering her a lazy grin.
    “Well, yes, though perhaps that is too strong a word. However, what I wish to tell you is that I have been with Jane since she was a very young girl, and I believe that I know her