"Then I wish you good-day!"
"But--just think--a 'undred guineas is a fortun'!"
"It is!" said I.
"Come, think it over," said the Postilion persuasively, "think it
over, now!"
"Let me fully understand you then," said I; "you propose to pay
me one hundred guineas on behalf of your master, known heretofore
as Number One, for such information as shall enable him to
discover the whereabouts of a certain person known as Her, Number
Two--is that how the matter stands?"
"Ah! that's 'ow it stands," nodded the Postilion, "the money to
be yours as soon as ever 'e lays 'ands on 'er--is it a go?"
"No!"
"No?"
"No!"
"W'y, you must be stark, starin' mad--that you must--unless
you're sweet on 'er yourself--"
"You talk like a fool!" said I angrily.
"So you are sweet on 'er then?"
"Ass!" said I. "Fool!" And, dropping my hammer, I made towards
him, but he darted nimbly to the door, where, seeing I did not
pursue, he paused.
"I may be a hass," he nodded, "an' I may be a fool--but I don't go
a-fallin' in love wi' ladies as is above me, an' out o' my reach,
and don't chuck away a 'undred guineas for one as ain't likely to
look my way--not me! Which I begs leave to say--hass yourself,
an' likewise fool--bah!" With which expletive he set his thumb
to his nose, spread out his fingers, wagged them and swaggered off.
Above me, and out of my reach! One not likely to look my way!
And, in due season, having finished the horseshoe, having set
each tool in its appointed place in the racks, and raked out the
clinkers from the fire, I took my hat and coat, and, closing the
door behind me, set out for the Hollow.