"Good!"
Their talk was merely interjectional, until the visitor had begun to appease his hunger and had drawn the cork of a second bottle of bitter ale.
"This is a great day," Hilliard then exclaimed. "I left Dudley this afternoon feeling ready to cut my throat. Now I'm a free man, with the world before me."
"How's that?"
"Emily's going to take a second husband—that's one thing."
"Heaven be praised! Better than one could have looked for."
Hilliard related the circumstances. Then he drew from his pocket an oblong slip of paper, and held it out.
"Dengate?" cried his friend. "How the deuce did you get hold of this?"
Explanation followed. They debated Dengate's character and motives.
"I can understand it," said Narramore. "When I was a boy of twelve I once cheated an apple-woman out of three-halfpence. At the age of sixteen I encountered the old woman again, and felt immense satisfaction in giving her a shilling. But then, you see, I had done with petty cheating; I wished to clear my conscience, and look my fellow-woman in the face."