‘You’re frightened of me, lady,’ the man said, ‘but you hain’t got no cause. I’m rough enough, but a lady as speaks kind and don’t try to bully a poor fellow—or go talking about the police—and besides I couldn’t do nothin’ to you. The men would be on me afore we could say Jack—— And I’m pretty sure as it’s the truth, and May’s wife ain’t here. She’s a proud one, she is. She’s maybe gone out of the country, or changed her name, or summat. Gi’ me ten shillin’ and I’ll go away.’
‘You had better go to the clergyman,’ said Mrs. Sandford.
‘Gi’ me ten shillin’,’ said the man.
‘Oh, perhaps I am doing what is wrong; perhaps I ought to speak to the constable. I’m not a person with any authority, and why should I interfere?’
‘Gi’ me ten shillin’,’ he repeated, coming close to her, holding out his hand.
‘Will you go away if I do? Perhaps you had better see the clergyman. I’ve no right to interpose to send you away. Will you go if I do?’
He nodded, watching her trembling hands as she took out her purse and felt in it, pressing very close to her, rubbing against her silk gown with his rough dress; and, as it happened by ill-luck, Mrs. Sandford had but a sovereign in her purse. When he saw it he put his hand upon hers suddenly, and crushed the little fingers together which held the golden coin.
‘Gi’ me that,’ he said, with his hot breath in her face, ‘gi’ me that, or afore any o’ them can get to ye I’ll knock you down; and they can’t do anything as bad to me.’
The little old lady stood enveloped in his big shadow, with his hairy, villainous face close by hers. She did not shrink, nor scream, nor faint, but stood up, deadly pale, with her limpid eyes fixed upon him.
‘I am not afraid of you,’ she said, with a little gasp. ‘Will you keep your word and go away?’