Meshach cackled in laughter. 'Ask your sister Alice,' he replied, 'it's her as is interested, not you. You aren't in the will.'
'But I don't want to ruin John Stanway,' Twemlow protested.
'Ruin John!' Meshach exclaimed, cackling again. 'Not you! We mun have no scandals in th' family. But you can go and see him, quiet-like, I reckon. Dost think as John'll be stuck fast for six or seven hundred, or eight hundred? Not John! And happen a bit of money'll come in handy to th' old parson tea-blender, by all accounts.'
'Suppose my father—made some mistake—forgot?'
'Ay!' said Meshach calmly. 'Suppose he did. And suppose he didna'.'
'I believe I'll go and talk to Stanway,' said Twemlow, putting the book in his pocket. 'Let me see. The works is down at Shawport?'
'On th' cut,'[[2]] said Meshach.
[2] Cut = canal.
'I can say Alice had asked me to look at the accounts. Oh! Perhaps I can straighten it out neat——' He spoke cheerfully, then stopped. 'But it's fifteen years ago!'
'Fifteen!' said Meshach with gravity.