‘Poor woman!’ Mrs. Sandford said. ‘But I can’t tell you where she has gone, only that she’s not here.’
‘You wouldn’t deceive a poor fellow, lady? I’ve ’ad a long tramp, and that beggar there, though it’s nothing but a public he keeps,—— him——’
‘Oh,’ said Mrs. Sandford, ‘don’t swear! What good can that do you? Indeed, I am not deceiving you. I’m very sorry for you. I will give you something to pay your fare to the town. You will be better off there than here.’
‘It’s not much of a town as far as I’ve heard,’ he said, ‘and I ain’t ’ad no breakfast. And my ’eart’s set on doing my duty by my mate. I’ll go from door to door but I’ll find that woman, blast her. She’s a proud ’un, I know, and thinks herself a lady. I’ll have it out with her, I will, afore I go.’
‘In that case,’ said Mrs. Sandford, ‘I can’t give you the money which I offered you: and I meant to give you something for your breakfast too—and I must speak to the constable, for we cannot have you about the village, Mr.—— I don’t know what your name is. To have you here frightening all the poor people would never do.’
She gave him a lofty nod of her little head, and turned away: but the man, after all, was not willing to relinquish present advantage for problematical good. He made a stride after her, which frightened her very much, and took away all her pretty colour, but not the courage in her heart.
‘Lady,’ he said, ‘if you tell me on your honour that woman ain’t here—them folks all said so, but I didn’t believe ’em: and if you’ll give me—say ten shillin’—over and above the fare, as you promised—— ’
A gleam of eagerness came into Mrs. Sandford’s eyes; but she controlled herself.
‘I can assure you,’ she said, ‘the woman is not here.’
She had grown quite pale, and, though she smiled still, her countenance was drawn with terror, perhaps, or some other feeling.