The two conspirators were silent for a moment, and then, when they had their corner to themselves again, Everage repeated his question, and the old woman answered:
“Who are they? you ask me, sir. Well, there is, first of all, my two brothers, as honest, trusty lads——”
“‘As ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat,’” suggested Everage.
“Yes, that they are, sir; and so you’ll find them,” said the old woman, who did not understand, or, perhaps, did not distinctly hear the quotation,—“honest and trusty, and true and good.”
“Although they knock your head about?” observed Everage, who had not forgotten that piece of news.
“Oh, your worship, that was drink; it wasn’t to say them.”
“Ay! ‘when the wine’s in the wit’s out,’ I suppose.”
“Just so, your honor; though it’s precious little wine they gets, poor souls. It’s most in general beer, or, if they’re in luck, gin.”
“Aye, to be sure! Well, if they serve me faithfully, they and you shall be kept in gin the rest of your lives.”
“Oh, your honor’s worship’s reverence, that would be heavenly,” exclaimed Mrs. Rooter, with enthusiasm. “They’ll be true to you, sir—they’ll be true to you till death do you part, and arterwards, sir! and arterwards; for I never could see the good of being true till death and then turning false to you arter you’re dead, or arter they are.”