“Come, Lanty,” said he, jocularly, “I can afford to sport ten pounds for a whim. Tell me who it was sent you after me this evening, and I'll give you the money.”
“Done, then!” cried Lanty, grasping his hand; “And you'll ask no more than his name?”
“Nothing more. I pledge my word; and here's the money.”
“Captain Hemsworth, the agent to the rich Englishman in Glen-flesk.”
“I don't think I ever saw him in my life—I'm certain I don't know him. Is he a tall, dark man?”
“I'll tell you no more,” said Lanty. “The devil a luck I ever knew come of speaking of him.”
“All fair, Lanty—a bargain's a bargain; and so, good-night.” And with a shake-hands of affected cordiality, they parted.
“Your conference has been a long one,” said Mark, who waited with impatience, until the silence without permitted him to come forth.
“Not so long as I could have wished it,” was Talbot's reply, as he stood in deep thought over what had passed. “It is just as I feared, Mark; there is danger brewing for me in some quarter, but how, and in what shape, I cannot even guess. This same horsedealer, this Lanty Lawler——”
“Lanty Lawler, did you say?”