“Get out, lad! Not you! Why?”
“For being such a coward and sneak, and coming here to gather blackmail and betray that poor fellow to the gallows, or to be shot.”
“What are you talking about, lad? What if he is put away? He’s only a spy, come here to do harm to the King.”
“That’s nothing to do with you,” cried Waller.
“Nay, but the money is. Half a hundred pounds is a lot. You needn’t make a fuss; you’ll get your share. What’s he to you? Has he broke his leg, same as I did mine, when I wouldn’t go away into the workus, and you used to come and see me and talk to me till it got better?”
“Broken his leg? No!”
“Ho! Thought he had perhaps, because you like doctoring chaps as has broke their legs, as well I know. What is he to you, then, Master Waller?”
“He’s my friend, Bunny,” cried the boy passionately. “One I’d do anything to save from harm; one I like as if he were my brother. And here you come, after all the kindness that I have shown you, and want to do me the greatest harm that man could do.”
“That I don’t.”
“What! Why, you come here threatening to go and betray that poor fellow to the soldiers if I don’t give you fifty pounds.”