“That man?” the coachman asked while breathing raggedly. He was so afraid that he would be beaten to a pulp by the man hovering over him that his mind had stopped functioning properly and he couldn’t think to who Regulus was referring.
Regulus tightened his clutch on that coachman’s collar and lifted him slightly. He looked that man dead in the eyes and repeated, “The man whom you dropped near the Atkinson Mansion.”
“Oh! Er…” the coachman gulped dryly and seemed to be in a dilemma.
He was recalling back to the time when the regal-looking man had given him a pouch full of gold coins and had asked him not to reveal his travel to anyone. He somewhat felt indebted to keep the secret safe with him because he had accepted a large sum of money from that man.
‘Would he be in trouble if I revealed who he was?’ He looked at Regulus who was still giving him a death glare and wondered, ‘Why is this man desperate to know who I had given a ride to anyway?’
