It was in vain Mrs. Edwards declared it had been paid; that she had sent the money by Evan Evans.
'In that case you will have the receipt. Produce it,' said he, with a sneer.
'I cannot,' replied she, in much perplexity. 'Evan has not yet returned. But he was seen to enter your office; yes, indeed!'
'Oh yes, he did come to my office to pay your neighbour Owen Griffith's rent, and to beg a fortnight's grace for you. I have been good enough to give you three weeks, and now I must have the rent—one way or other.'
The evil smile of triumph on his wicked old face, as he said this, was lost on Mrs. Edwards in her consternation.
'Beg what? I did want no fortnight's grace. I did send the golden guineas!'
Mr. Pryse's thin lip curled. 'Then your man kept them. And it is rather strange he should pay Griffith's rent if he meant to make off with yours. There must be lying and dishonesty somewhere.'
'Yes, indeed,' broke from Ales, in a passion of indignant wrath. 'But not from my mistress or Evan Evans; they do both be God-fearing and true.'
An ominous scowl drew down the brows under the English three-cornered hat.
'Silence, you impudent jade, or I'll have you cast into jail for your vile insinuations. Wait until your honest Evan comes back before you venture to asperse his lordship's deputy.' And he raised his riding-whip as if to strike her.