“It was, your Reverence, a bit of leveret.”
“Was! You’ve finished then. It is all gone?”
“It is. The dog had the remains of it, as ye see.”
He points to the dish on the floor.
“I’m sorry at that—having rather a relish for leveret. It can’t be helped, however.”
“I wish I’d known ye were comin’. Dang the dog!”
“No, no! Don’t blame the poor dumb brute. No doubt, it too has a taste for hare, seeing it’s half hound. I suppose leverets are plentiful just now, and easily caught, since they can no longer retreat to the standing corn?”
“Yes, your Reverence. There be a good wheen o’ them about.”
“In that case, if you should stumble upon one, and bring it to my house, I’ll have it jugged for myself. By the way, what have you got in that black jack?”
“It’s brandy.”