“‘So you’d say about livin’ on potatoes, and drinkin’ well water.’ “‘That’s true,’ says Luttrell.
“‘So you’d say about ragged clothes and no shoes to your feet.’” Luttrell nodded.
“‘So you’d say about settin’ in a cave and talking over family matters to—to a stranger,’ says he, with a laugh.
“‘I believe there’s something in it,’ said Luttrell; ‘but sure some of us might like to turn bachelors.’
“‘Let them, and welcome,’ says he. ‘I don’t want them to do it one after the other. I’m in no hurry. Take a hundred years—take two, if you like, for it.’
“‘Done,’ says Lnttrell. ‘When a man shows a fair spirit, I’ll always meet him in the same. Give me your hand; it’s a bargain.’
“‘I hurt my thumb,’ says he; ‘but take my tail, ‘twill do all the same.’ And though Mr. Luttrell didn’t like it, he shook it stoutly, and only let it go when it began to burn his fingers. And from that day he was rich, even till he died; but after his death nobody ever knew where to find the gold, nor ever will till the devil tells them.”
“And did his family keep the bargain; did they marry the peasants?” asked Grenfell.
“Two of them. One before, John Lnttrell of Arran; and another must do it, and soon too, for they say the two hundred years is near out now.”
“And is it said that the remedy succeeded?” asked Vyner; “are the Luttrells cured of their family pride?”