“Yes,” added my Lord. “I have given you to Vratz,” and he Shivered a little closer to the Fire and Held out his hand to the Glow of it, Regarding the three with Eyes so unnaturally blazing that they conveyed a thrill of terror.
“Oh, dear sir,” said the Polander, “this is a Greater Joy than I looked for in coming to England.”
He bent with more Grace than might easily have been expected from his Bulk and kissed the Count’s thin hand in a humble Gratitude.
“This is a man,” said Captain Vratz, “who will do Anything for me–out of the Great Affection he hath for my Person—”
“Need you set him on a losing Game?” asked the young German, glancing at the pleased, simple face of the Polander. “There is many an Italian walking about the Piazza of Covent Garden who would do the Trick for the Matter of Fifty Pounds.”
At that my Lord looked up Sharply and seemed Mightily out of Countenance and Captain Vratz answered:
“That is in the Count’s hands. I am his Man.”
Now the Polander made nothing of all this but only Wished to be away with his Master; and they made so little account of him that they never abated their Talk but treated him like a Dog that had just been bought by a new Master, and so he took it himself and truly his Attention was absorbed by a Broadsword he beheld on a Table near, and that he Surmised was that ordered by Mr. Hanson at the Cutler’s at Charing Cross and a fine Weapon too, from the Look.
Near this Weapon was a Black Peruke, and the Polander wondered why a Gentleman of so fair a face as my Lord should have so Black a Wig and he surmised that it belonged to Mr. Hanson.
My Lord walked about the bare floor and seemed in some contained Passion of Excitement.