“Dick Dempsey—better known by the name of Coracle Dick.”
“Ah, Coracle Dick! He appears to occupy a conspicuous place in your thoughts, Jack; and rather a low one in your estimation. Why, may I ask? What sort of fellow is he?”
“The biggest blaggard as lives on the Wye, from where it springs out o’ Plinlimmon to its emptying into the Bristol Channel. Talk o’ poachers an’ night netters. He goes out by night to catch somethin’ beside salmon. ’Taint all fish as comes into his net, I know.”
The young waterman speaks in such hostile tone both about priest and poacher, that Ryecroft suspects a motive beyond the ordinary prejudice against men who wear the sacerdotal garb, or go trespassing after game. Not caring to inquire into it now, he returns to the original topic, saying:—
“We’ve strayed from our subject, Jack—which was the hard drinking owner of yonder house.”
“Not so far, captain; seein’ as he be the most intimate friend the priest have in these parts; though if what’s said be true, not nigh so much as his Missus.”
“Murdock is married, then?”
“I won’t say that—leastwise I shouldn’t like to swear it. All I know is, a woman lives wi’ him, s’posed to be his wife. Odd thing she.”
“Why odd?”
“’Cause she beant like any other o’ womankind ’bout here.”