"To be sure, old fellow. You can go on some other day."
"Surely—surely."
CHAPTER LXI.
TODD RECEIVES SOME STARTLING INTELLIGENCE.
It took Todd, master as he was, or used to be, in the art of dissimulation, some few minutes to recover his composure, after the officer had left the shop, and during that time, the gentleman from Fogg's looked at him with the quiet sniggering kind of laugh so peculiar to him. Todd was evidently, day by day, losing that amount of nerve which had at one time formed his principal characteristic. It was getting, in fact, clear to himself that he was not near so well fitted for the business he was carrying on as he had been. Turning to the man from Fogg's, he said, while he put on as bland a smile as he could—
"Well, my friend, I suppose you have sought me with some motive? Pray speak out, and tell me what it is."
The man laughed.
"I have had a row with Fogg," he said, "and we parted in anger. I told him I would split upon the den, but he is a deep one, and he only coughed. Fogg, though, somehow don't laugh as he used. However, as well as he could laugh, he did, and, says he, 'Peter, my lad,' says he, 'if you do split upon the old den, I'll get you transported, as safe as you think yourself.'"
"Well?"
"Well. I—I—didn't like that."
"Then you are probably," said Todd in a bland manner—"you are probably aware that you may be obnoxious to the law."