Chirk dived a hand into his pocket, and drew forth a snuff-box. It was a handsome piece, as its present owner acknowledged, as he offered it, open, to John. “Took it off of a fat old gager a couple o’ years back,” he explained, with engaging frankness. “Prigged his tatler, too, but I sold that. I’m a great one for a pinch o’ merry-go-up, and this little box just happened to take my fancy, and I’ve kept it. I daresay I’d get a double finnup for it, too,” he added, sighing over his own prodigality. “It’s worth more, but when it comes to tipping over the dibs there ain’t a lock as isn’t a hog-grubber. Now, look ’ee here, Mr. Nib-Cove——”
“I wish you will stop calling me that!” interrupted John. “If it means, as I suspect it may, that you take me for some town-tulip, you’re out! I’m a soldier!”
“Oh!” said Mr. Chirk, helping himself to a generous pinch of his snuff. “No offence, Soldier! Now, maybe I could drop in at one or two kens which I knows of, and where I might get news o’ Ned Brean; but he never spoke a word to me about this cull which comes to see him secret. I’m bound to say it sounds to me like a Banbury story, but you ain’t no halfling, nor you don’t look like one o’ them young bloods kicking up a lark, and I don’t misdoubt you. I don’t twig what any boman prig should be doing in a backward place like this, but I’ll tell you that there’s ways a gatekeeper might be useful to such—if you greased him well in the fist! If so be as you was wishful to take a train o’ pack-ponies through the pike, and no questions asked nor toll paid, for instance!”
“Yes, I’d thought of that,” John agreed. “I’ve seen it done, but not here. Dash it, man, this is Derbyshire!”
“Just what I was thinking myself,” nodded Chirk. “In the free-trading business, Soldier?”
John laughed. “No, only for a week or two! I was picked up at sea once by a free-trading vessel, and made the voyage in her. A famous set of rascals they were, too, but they treated me well enough.”
“I should think,” said Chirk dryly, “them coves at Bedlam must be looking for you all over! You ain’t got a fancy to go on the rum-pad for a week or two, I s’pose?”
“Not I!” John grinned. “It’s pound dealing for me! Try it yourself!—I might be able to help you.”
“Thanking you kindly, I’d as lief stand on my own feet! Nor I don’t see why you should want to help me.”
“As you please! When you see Rose Durward, give her a message from me!”