“Yes; then, you know, then if he should turn round I can easily bring him down with that.”
“Yes—yes; but he has something at his home that I want.”
“Oh, very well. Then we must let him go home first, I suppose. But I’d rather have my cleaver with me, in case of anything handy and delicate being wanted.”
“You may have the devil with you if you like, so that you dog the fellow home, and come back with accurate news of where he lives. I hate him, and must have his life!”
“May I make so uncommon free as to ask what he’s done?”
“Done! He has swindled me out of my own. You know I am a smith? Well, for ten long years I beat the anvil, when I ought to be a gentleman, all through him. For ten years by myself—shunned by every one. I was forced to live by my—work by myself—drink by myself.”
“That was d—d hard.”
“It was; and all through this man. Hilloa there—more canary.”
Britton was fast relapsing into his former state of semi-intoxication, and he struck his fists repeatedly upon the table as he continued,—
“He has been my bane—my curse—and he is so now! He boasts of his cunning, and calls me a muddle-headed beast. I’ll muddle his head for him. Curse him—curse him.”