“In a sense, perhaps, you did not,” the Marquis admitted, “but yours appears to be the hand which maimed him. The Glasgow Daisy, as I believe he is called in pugilistic circles, appears to be a person of considerable determination, not to say obstinacy. He declines to leave the Castle until he has received at least five hundred pounds on account of his injury. I left him arguing the matter with Mr. Montague. The interview promised to be a stormy one.”
Jacob laughed softly.
“I hope he gives them both a hiding,” he remarked.
The Marquis coughed, and, coming a little nearer to the grating, scrutinised Jacob with some surprise.
“You seem to be keeping very fit,” he observed.
“Doing me a lot of good, this change of diet,” Jacob assured him. “We all eat too much.”
“Nevertheless,” the Marquis proceeded, “we feel that it is time our little enterprise was ended. I have a fancy to have you for a neighbour, Mr. Pratt.”
“Very charming of you,” Jacob replied. “So far as I have seen anything of the country around, I like it.”
“That,” the Marquis rejoined, “simplifies matters. The Lasswade Moor Estate, adjoining mine, is yours for fifty thousand pounds. I have the agreement in my pocket. To-morrow the price will be fifty-five thousand, and the next day sixty thousand.”
“When can I inspect the property?” Jacob asked.