“Yes, I hear you, but that ain't enough. You 're bound by them bills, as you 'll see stickin' up all through the town, to appear this evening and deliver a lecture before the people of this city—”
“One word for all, I 'll not do it.”
“And do you tell me, sir, that when our folk is a-gatherin' about the assembly rooms, that they 're to be told to go home ag'in; that the Britisher has changed his mind, and feels someways as if he didn't like it?”
“That may be as it can; my determination is fixed. You may lecture yourself; or you can, perhaps, induce your friend—I forget his name—to favor the company.”
“Well, sir, if old Poll's strength was equal to it, the public would n't have to regret you. It ain't one of your stamp could replace him, that I tell you.”
A sudden thought here flashed across Layton's mind, and he hastened to profit by it.
“Why not ask him to take my place? I am ready, most ready, to requite his services. Tell him, if you like, that I will pay all the expenses of the evening, and leave him the receipts. Or say, if he prefer, that I will give him thirty, forty, ay, fifty dollars, if he will relieve me from an engagement I have no mind for.”
“Well, that does sound a bit reasonable,” said the other, slowly; “though, mayhap, he 'll not think the terms so high. You would n't say eighty, or a hundred, would you? He 's proud, old Poll, and it's best not to offend him by a mean offer.”
Layton bit his lip impatiently, and walked up and down the room without speaking.
“Not to say,” resumed Heron, “that he's jest out of a sick-bed; the exertion might give him a relapse. The contingencies is to be calc'lated, as they say on the railroads.”