She had had highwaymen pointed out to her in Drury Lane and Dyott Street and knew that the majority were boasting, bragging fellows and cowards at heart.

But there were others of a different quality who did their robberies with quite a gentlemanly air.
They took the way through Whitton Park.

As the housekeeper said, the journey was cross-country so far as roads were concerned, but Stephen knew the short cuts and they reached the long, straggling, mean-looking Hounslow High Street--the future town was at that time little more than a street--at about a quarter to six.
They entered the "George"-- a house of greater pretensions than the rest--and Lavinia found she was in plenty of time for the London coach.
"She'll be late," said the landlord.

"A chap as just come in says he rode past her t'other side o' the heath an' she was stuck fast on a nasty bit o' boggy road and one o' the leaders--a jibber--wouldn't stir a step for whip or curses." "That's bad," said Stephen.

"Still it would ha' been far worse if some o' them High Toby gentry had stopped the coach." "Aye," rejoined the landlord dropping his voice.