“No,” said the farmer, “not a guinea of it; but John Simpson, who was my substitute, has not left our village yet. I’ll get the money back from him, and go myself, if so be it must be so, into the militia—so I will.”
The attorney did not expect such a determination, and he represented, in a friendly, hypocritical tone to Price, that he had no wish to drive him to such an extremity; that it would be the height of folly in him to run his head against a wall for no purpose. “You don’t mean to take the corner into your own garden, do you, Price?” said he.
“I?” said the farmer, “God forbid! it’s none of mine, I never take what does not belong to me.”
“True, right, very proper, of course,” said Mr. Case; “but then you have no interest in life in the land in question?”
“None.”
“Then why so stiff about it, Price? All I want of you to say—”
“To say that black is white, which I won’t do, Mr. Case. The ground is a thing not worth talking of; but it’s neither yours nor mine. In my memory, since the new lane was made, it has always been open to the parish; and no man shall inclose it with my good-will. Truth is truth, and must be spoken; justice is justice, and should be done, Mr. Attorney.”
“And law is law, Mr. Farmer, and shall have its course, to your cost,” cried the attorney, exasperated by the dauntless spirit of this village Hampden.
Here they parted. The glow of enthusiasm, the pride of virtue, which made our hero brave, could not render him insensible. As he drew nearer home, many melancholy thoughts pressed upon his heart. He passed the door of his own cottage with resolute steps, however, and went through the village in search of the man who had engaged to be his substitute. He found him, told him how the matter stood; and luckily the man, who had not yet spent the money, was willing to return it; as there were many others drawn for the militia, who, he observed, would be glad to give him the same price, or more, for his services.
The moment Price got the money, he hastened to Mr. Case’s house, walked straight forward into his room, and laying the money down upon his desk, “There, Mr. Attorney, are your nine guineas; count them; now I have done with you.”