“Say one hundred, and it is a bargain,” returned the man, with a grin that he meant for a good-natured smile.
“A bargain!” echoed the peddler, in surprise. “I thought the bargain already made.”
“Nothing is a bargain,” said the purchaser, with a chuckle, “until papers are delivered, and the money paid in hand.”
“You have the paper.”
“Aye, and will keep it, if you will excuse the money. Come, say one hundred and fifty, and I won’t be hard; here—here is just the money.”
The peddler looked from the window, and saw with dismay that the evening was fast advancing, and knew well that he endangered his life by remaining in the dwelling after dark; yet he could not tolerate the idea of being defrauded in this manner, in a bargain that had already been fairly made; he hesitated.
“Well,” said the purchaser, rising, “mayhap you can find another man to trade with between this and morning, but if you don’t, your title won’t be worth much afterwards.”
“Take it, Harvey,” said Katy, who felt it impossible to resist a tender like the one before her; for the purchase money was in English guineas. Her voice roused the peddler, and a new idea seemed to strike him.
“I agree to the price,” he said; and, turning to the spinster, he placed part of the money in her hand, as he continued, “Had I other means to pay you, I would have lost all, rather than suffer myself to be defrauded of part.”
“You may lose all yet,” muttered the stranger, with a sneer, as he rose and left the building.