“Rather,” replied the man.
“Will it tempt you to assist me to escape from this place? If so, name your price.”
“That’s business like,” said the man. “I suppose it’s you they are making all the rout about below there?”
“It is. They are hunting me, and, with your assistance, I may yet escape.”
“The devil doubt it. Curse me if I don’t actually love you. Why, I have been poking about for this half hour to do you a good turn.”
“Is that possible?”
“To be sure. Why that fellow, whose crown you have cracked so handsomely below there, was the pest of all the cracksmen in the neighbourhood. I love you. I tell you.”
“Then you are—”
“Jem Batter, the cracksman.”
“Then you will befriend me?”