"Ha, ha, ha!" chuckled the tenant of the hut; "thou art astir, cronies! Ha, ha! I took ye for land loupers—sharks. By the Five Wounds, I knew ye not! Have patience a space and I will open."
When the Cripple had dressed himself he came swinging forth in his bowl, and passing beyond the curtilage of his dwelling went to the beach, whither he was followed by his two visiters who had now dismounted from their ponies. Here he halted, and taking off his cap, exposed his bare head and loose white tresses to the morning breeze which came somewhat sharply from the water.
"Soh!" he exclaimed, "there is refreshment in that! It is my custom to expel these night-cap vapours with the good salt water breeze: that is a commodity that may reach the province without paying duty to his Lordship! a cheap physic, a cheap physic, masters. Now what scent art thou upon, Nichol Upstake? Perry Cadger, man of sarsnet and grogram, I guess thy errand."
"In truth, Robert Swale," said Upstake——
"No Robert Swale, nor Master Robert Swale," testily interrupted the owner of the cabin: "none of your worshipful phrase for me! Thou art but a shallow hypocrite to affect this reverence. Rob of the Bowl is the best I get from you when your longings are satisfied; ay, and it is said with a curl of your lip; and you make merry over my unworthiness with your pot-fellows. So, be honest, and give me plain Rob; I seek no flattery."
"You do us wrong, good Master Rob," interposed Peregrine Cadger——
"To your needs," said Rob, sternly: "Speak in the way of your trade! You have no voice, nor I ear for aught else."
"Then, in brief," said Nichol Upstake, "I would fain know if you could supply me with Antigua to-day, or aqua vitæ, I care not which?"
"If such a thing might be, where wouldst thou take it, Nichol?" inquired Rob.
"To Warrington on the Cliffs."