As he approached it, he raised his hat with an exaggeration of politeness.
'Madam,' he said, 'you asked for me, I believe ?' The woman--for a woman it was, though he could see no more of her than a pale face, staring set and Gorgon-like from under the hood--did not answer at once.

Then, 'Who are you ?' she said.
'Colonel Berkeley,' he answered with assurance, and again saluted her.
'Who killed the highwayman at Hounslow last Christmas ?' she cried.
'The same, madam.' 'And shot Farnham Joe at Roehampton ?' 'Yes, madam.

And much at your service.' 'We shall see,' she answered, her voice savagely dubious.

'At least you are a gentleman and can use a pistol?
But are you willing to risk something for justice' sake ?' 'And the sake of your _beaux yeux_, madam ?' he answered, a laugh in his voice.

'Yes.' 'You mean it ?' 'Prove me,' he answered.
His tone was light; but the woman, who seemed to labour under strong emotion, either failed to notice this or was content to put up with it.
'Then send on your carriage,' she said.
His jaw fell at that, and had there been light by which to see him he would have looked foolish.