But Master Inch was still "dubersome."
"But then, you understand," he said, "it is against the regulations that I should vacuate my post until after the sitting is over ... so..."
"Sir Humphrey Challoner is partaking of breakfast at the Royal George, Master Inch, he would wish Squire West to know that he'll attend on him here in half an hour."
Master Inch closed one eye, and with the other keenly watched Master Mittachip's movements. The attorney turned the half-crown over in his lean hand once or twice, then he made as if he would put it back in his pocket.
This decided the beadle.
"I'll go and reconnoitre-ate," he said, "and perhaps I can despatch a menial to impart to the Squire, Sir Humphrey's wishes and cognomen."
Thus the majestic beadle felt that his dignity had not been impaired. With a magnificent turn of his portly person, and an imposing flourish of his wand of office, he disappeared within the precincts of the Court.
Master Mittachip slipped the half-crown back in his pocket, and did not wait for the beadle's return. He was quite satisfied that Sir Humphrey's wishes would be acceded to. He turned his back on the Court House and slowly crossed the green.
Opposite to him was the Royal George, where he and Master Duffy had put up for the night. In the small hours of the morning he had been aroused from peaceful slumbers by a great disturbance at the inn. Sir Humphrey Challoner, booted and spurred, but alone, on foot, and covered with mud, was peremptorily demanding admittance.
Since then Master Mittachip had had an interview with his employer, wherein his Honour had expressed the desire to speak with Squire West after he, himself, had partaken of late breakfast. That interview had been a very brief one, but it had sufficed to show to the lean attorney that Sir Humphrey's temper was none of the best this morning.