"A guinea," said Miss Fortescue. "This rum old card give a guinea."
"Well, you can lie in the stable. My cottage is chock-full."
He took a lantern and showed me the way to the "stable," which was a hut with one stall and a loose box in which was a very untidy donkey. I at once declined to share this stable with Miss Fortescue, preferring to risk a night in the rain. I stated my intention.
"Old boy is quite right. He's a rummy old passenger, but he's quite right. Come along, queer little old man—we walk somewheres else."
"Now, lookee here," said the man. "Wot's your game, you two? Wot are yer up to? Is this here a lark? Where's my guinea! Come!—be a gentleman afore ye goes! None of this with me you know! Give us 'old of my guinea! Come!"
"Old man," said Dolly to me, "pull out employer's cash-box and give guinea like bird."
"Wot's this here about cash-boxes?" said the man. "Come, out with that guinea! We hears a good deal about it, but we don't see none of it. Come, let's see some of it. Be a man!"
"I shall give you nothing," said I. "You are an insolent scoundrel!"
"Wot!" said the man. "Wot's this here about cash-boxes? Come along o' me!" and he laid his hand upon my collar.
"You scoundrel!" said I, "If I were a stronger man than you are I'd"
