"Lady Relton's Dick said the rats in the stable worn't worth their keep. Lady Relton told him she'd pay the corn for the horses, but the rats would have to go elsewhere if they wanted good grain, as she didn't intend for 'em to have hers. I said I'd go to-morrow, being promised to Farmer Wadsden's ricks to-day; but Dick, he says the world has to stop a turnin' round for my lady, he says, and she were in a taking along of them rats, so to-day I took the pup along and I went up to the Court."
"Ah," gasped the landlady; she had not meant to interrupt, but the approach of the pith of the story was too much for her, and with the desperate economy of the schoolboy, who leaves the biggest plum to the last, she again diverted the channel of conversation.
"Lady Relton's Dick fetched a gentleman from the station this mornin', and he took him back again an hour past. I knows he did, seeing as I was washing the precious baby's face, or was I hanging out Mrs. Walker's wash? when the dog-cart come by. Was it the gentleman as ye saw up at the Court, Muster Brill?"
Few sights are more melancholy than that of a man who has been robbed of his story by another; and good-natured Roger Brill pushed back his chair at this second interruption, and rose to his feet with something like offended dignity.
"If ye want to have the talkin' to yourself, missus, I be going to clear out. Cause why? It bain't reasonable to tell a body somethin' fresh when the body have heard it afore, and I ain't the man to spoil t' other body's tale, so good arternoon to ye."
But here Peter became peacemaker.
"Sit ye down, lad, and doan't heed her clapperin' tongue. I doan't, and it's clipper-clappered at me this twenty year."
With an effort of generosity the injured Roger recognized a grievance greater than his own, and by drinking the remainder of his beer standing he considered he had compromised his dignity sufficiently to resume his seat and his story.
"Lord, what rats they was!" he exclaimed, his eye kindling at the recollection. "I never could have thought so well of my lady as that she'd leave 'em to get to that pitch before calling me in. Why, Peter, man, if she'd called me in only a month ago she'd have spoilt the sport summat! but here they was, eaten to bustin' with corn, and no thought of the morrow, as the Holy Scripture says. Eh, but that was a mornin', that was; well, I reckon I'd laid out some dozen or more in the stable yard, when up comes Lady Relton and Mr. Jack." He paused to watch the effect of his superior knowledge on his hearers, chose to ignore the landlady's triumphant whisper, "That's him," and sighed deeply. "I doan't know no more than the dead what business it was of his to come hangin' round my lady, what's all unprotected and alone like, bless her!"
"Nay, indeed," echoed his hearers feelingly.