“Mad Maud, who used to haunt the village, and ever vented her bitterest curses upon me.”
“Mad Maud! She must be secured. Even her clamour might arouse suspicion in some quarter, and many a prying knave would be glad to pick a hole in the reputation of the rich and proud Squire Learmont. When did you see her, Britton?”
“On Westminster-bridge, after you and I had parted last.”
“The—water—was—near.”
“It was, but the old beldame raised a clamour that brought help. When next we meet, she may not be so near assistance.”
“True. How true is the lesson taught by Jacob Gray, that safety is best doubly assured. You stay still at the Chequers?”
“Yes—you know I do. Why do you ask?”
“From no special motive.”
“Yes; I am still at the Chequers. Ho! Ho! Ho! Money flies there. Mine host is about to build a new front to his house and it’s all with your money, squire. By G—d, they sell good liquor at the Chequers, and there’s a merry company—a good song and a silver tankard on purpose for good Master Britton. Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“You sleep there?”