“I persevere then in my offer,” said Learmont, with a slight trembling of his voice. “A thousand pounds.”
The smith was silent, but Gray spoke.
“We have decided, worshipful sir,” he said.
“And your decision is—”
“This. We think, with your worship, that London is the most delightful of cities, and we purpose to follow you thither; to live ever near you, and to trust to your liberality for our wants.”
For a moment it seemed, by the convulsive working of the countenance of Learmont, that he was about to burst into an uncontrollable fit of passion; but if such was his feeling he succeeded in suppressing it, and replied with an affectation of calmness, “Preposterous! You must think me weak, indeed, to be thus dictated to, Master Gray.”
“Then I must to London,” said Gray, “and my only regret is that I have wasted valuable time.”
“Look ye, Squire Learmont,” said Britton, folding his huge arms across his breast, and glaring with his ferocious eyes in the face of his patron. “I was to have been well paid for a black job. You know I have been ill paid, on the plea that it was not completed.”
“I have constantly supplied your wants,” said Learmont, shrinking under the savage gaze of the smith.
“I have not starved, truly,” continued Britton. “But now I will have wealth.”