“Sha’n’t tell.”
“Do you know the name?”
“Yessir. Leastways I spelled it out fro’ th’ letter. Oh I’ve ’ad schoolin’, I ’ave, gents both, and knows m’ letters somehow.”
“What is this letter?” asked Alan in a peremptory tone.
“A letter es the cove es came wrote sayin’ he’d come. I never sawr him es wrote the letter,” explained Jotty, “cos, after I seed the peacock on th’ night; him es wos good t’ me turned me out to dos elsewheres. But I fun’ the letter I did in them ole clothes.”
“Whose old clothes?”
“Him es wos good t’ me.”
“Mr. Grison?”
“Yessir. He fell an’ got covered with mud like. An’ he ses t’ me he’d like me t’ taike the mud orf, and I did. In th’ coat I fun’ th’ letter, an’ wrapped up marbles in it. I furgot t’ put it back,” added Jotty in an apologetic manner, “an’ es he es wos good t’ me didn’t ask fur no letter, I never said anything, I didn’t, nohow.”
“When was this?” questioned Alan anxiously. “On the day afore he es wos good t’ me wos made a dead un.”