“Excellent,” approved Hawkins. “I fancied to hear some such answer from you.” He got upon his feet and advanced, switching his boot-leg with his riding whip, to the chimneypiece where the landlord stood. “You look to be a fellow of good courage—one not easily frightened.”
The man’s hand now left his chin, and his glance was swift.
THE MAN SHRANK A LITTLE
“Now,” said he, “I think I begin to understand you. This money, sir, is how much?”
“Thirty English sovereigns.”
The landlord’s eyes glistened in the candle-light.
“It’s a good sum, in the common way of speaking,” he said. “But, perhaps,” shrewdly, “none too good for the work to be done.”
Hawkins bent forward and whispered in his ear; then his finger pointed upward, as though indicating something in the room above. The man shrank a little, and his face seemed to blanch. But his gaze remained fixed steadily upon Hawkins.
“Ah!” said he, with a deep drawn breath, “so it is that!”