"I believe we've had Galloping Hermit here to-night," she said suddenly.
"It was unlike Gentleman Jack to talk as he did just now. Mark my words,
he wears a brown mask on special occasions, and thought by sneering to
throw dust in our eyes. It's not the first time I have considered the
possibility, and I'm not sure that I won't buy a brown silk mask for
keepsake and slip it on when next I see him coming in at the door. That
would settle the question."
She had many arguments to support her opinion, reminded her customers of
many little incidents which had occurred in the past, recalling
Gentleman Jack's peculiar behaviour on various occasions. Her arguments
sounded convincing, and for an hour or more they discussed the question.
The opportunity to test her belief by wearing a brown silk mask never
came, however, for that same night Gentleman Jack was taken on Hounslow
Heath. A stumbling horse put him at the mercy of the man he sought to
rob, who struck him on the head with a heavy riding-whip, and when the
highwayman recovered consciousness he found himself a prisoner, bound
hand and foot. He endeavoured to bargain with his captor, and made an
attempt to outwit him, but, failing in both efforts, he accepted his
position with a good grace, determined to make the best of it.
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