“I’m at your service, sir.”
“And damn your company, say I. I don’t want it. If you’re for selling, there’s my offer. If you’re not, I’ll go elsewhere.”
“Short and sweet. What d’ye want of her?”
“That’s my business. Mind you your own, and——”
He thought he caught a glimpse of a figure moving the other side of the gateway in the wall.
“Come!” he cried hurriedly. “Take or reject. I’ve no time for barter.”
He brought a handful of gold out of his pocket as he spoke. There was the sum he had named and a little over.
The man hesitated—not from any doubt as to his own advantage in the bargain, but from a dread that he might be lending himself to some compromising transaction. The glitter of the pieces decided him. He stepped forward, hollowed his two hands together, and looked up greedily.
“Take it a bargain,” he said. “I’m for your honour.”
A moment later he was holding the wherry while the baronet climbed in, sat down and unshipped the sculls.