“A peevy cove, ain’t you?” Chirk said. “What d’ye want to do? Cry rope on me? Who told you I was on the bridle lay?”
“Who told you I was a green ’un?” retorted John.
Chirk smiled reluctantly, and applied himself to the beef. “Danged if I know what you are!” he said. “But I wasn’t a rank-rider all them years ago. Lordy, when you get to be that you’re top-o’-the-trees! I started on the dub-lay, and worked my way up.”
“Is it worth it?” John asked curiously.
Mr. Chirk smiled a little wryly. “It’s all according to the way you look at it,” he replied. “You might be lucky, and end up with the dibs in tune, but I ain’t met many as did. It’s a free life, and if you’ve a taste for excitement there’ll be plenty o’ that. The chances are you’ll go up the ladder to bed—at York Gaol, with a Black-coat saying prayers, and the nubbing-cheat ready to top you. It’s well enough when you’re young, but when you get to my time o’ life, and maybe have a fancy to settle down—well, that’s where the rub comes, and no remedy! If I could lay my hands on a bit o’ balsam—and I don’t mean a truss with six or seven goblins in it, and a couple o’ diamond rings which turn out to be Bristol stone!—no, some real mint-sauce: a monkey, in some old gager’s strong-box, or even a couple o’ plums: why, I don’t know but what I wouldn’t turn to pound dealing! A tidy little farm, maybe. But I’m not a lucky cove: never have been!”
John got up to refill the ale-jug. “What’s Bream’s lay?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
John laughed. “A stupid question, Mr. Chirk! You wouldn’t tell me, if you did. But I want to find the man.”
“Hark ’ee!” said Chirk. “If you was thinking, because I stable the mare here now and then, and maybe have a bite o’ supper with Ned, he’s a fence, or a baggage-man, you’re going beside the cushion! He ain’t—not to my knowledge! This ain’t my beat, and I don’t come here in the way o’ business. What brings me here is another matter: private, you may say! If you’re willing I should leave the mare for an hour, well! If you ain’t—well again! I’ll brush!”
“Oh, quite willing!” John said. “I’m even willing to believe you don’t know what may have befallen Brean, or where to get news of him—if you tell me so, man to man.”