“It won’t,” said Stogumber, with conviction. “I’m bound to say coffee ain’t a bub as I’m in the habit of drinking, but I won’t deny it smells good—and I dessay it’ll smell better if you drop a ball o’ fire into it.”
John laughed, and went to fetch the brandy bottle from the cupboard. Having poured a measure into the coffee, he handed the mug to his guest, and said, untruthfully, but in the most natural manner: “I’m damned if I know what your lay is, Stogumber, but I’ll go bail it wasn’t pound dealing that brought you here! I’ve no wish to offend you, but you seem to me a curst rum touch! It’s my belief you know who set on you tonight, and why they did so.”
“Maybe I got a notion who they was,” admitted Stogumber, cautiously sipping the laced coffee. “But when a man has a lump on his noddle the size of this here one of mine, it don’t do for him to set much store by his notions, because his brains is addled for the time being. What’s more, I’ve been mistook before, and I might be again, easy! The first time as I ever clapped my ogles on you, big ’un, I thought you was Quality.” He paused, and directed a look upwards at John, under his brows. “Then I heard as you was the gatekeeper’s cousin, so, out of course, I see as I was mistook there.” He sighed, and shook his head. “Betwattled, that’s what I am! What with owing my life to a bridle-cull, and you—which wasn’t so very friendly last time I see you—taking me in, and patching me up, like you have done, I’m danged if I know what to think! And when I don’t know what to think, it’s my way to keep me chaffer close, Mr. Staple, see?”
“I’m not Brean’s cousin, and you may call me Quality if you choose. Since you are putting up at the Blue Boar, I fancy you’ve a fair notion of what my lay is!”
“Maybe,” agreed Stogumber, drinking some more coffee. “Maybe! And another notion I got, big ’un, is that you’re a dangerous sort of a cove, which would take the wind out of my eye if you could do it! Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I ain’t.” He drained the mug, and set it down. “I’m beholden to you, and I don’t deny it. I wouldn’t want to do you a mischief. But if you was to try to tip me the double, Mr. Staple, or to come crab over me, you want to bear in mind I’m up to slum, and I ain’t a safe cove to cross!” He got up. “Thanking you kindly for all you done, I’ll brush now. You remember what I said to you!”
“I’ll remember it,” promised John. “Are you able to walk as far as to the village, or shall I mount you, and go with you?”
“No, no, I’ll beat it on the hoof!” Stogumber replied. “I’m feeling pretty stout now, and there’s no call for you to leave the gate.”
“Would you like a pistol?”
“Much obliged to you, no! Gabriel Stogumber ain’t caught napping twice in one night.”
He then took his leave, and went off, leaning on his ash-plant. John watched him until he passed out of sight round the bend in the road, and then went back into the tollhouse to await Chirk’s return.