“It will never frighten us again.”
“Won’t it? how so?”
“Look here,” said Tarlton, drawing something from his pocket wrapped in a blue handkerchief.
“What’s that?” Tarlton opened it. “Raw meat!” exclaimed Loveit. “How came you by it?”
“Tom, the servant boy, Tom got it for me; and I’m to give him sixpence.”
“And is it for the dog?”
“Yes; I vowed I’d be revenged on him, and after this he’ll never bark again.”
“Never bark again! What do you mean? Is it poison?” exclaimed Loveit, starting back with horror.
“Only poison for a dog,” said Tarlton, confused; “you could not look more shocking if it was poison for a Christian.”
Loveit stood for nearly a minute in profound silence. “Tarlton,” said he at last, in a changed tone and altered manner, “I did not know you; I will have no more to do with you.”