“Thank you, gay gentleman. The advice is to turn your fine horse end for end, and get back among the fools of your own kidney. We are always safer among our own kind.”
“Are there any cattle for sale hereabout? I see none in the fields.”
“Everything’s for sale in England, crown, cattle, opinions, swords; oh, it’s a great market for cutlery. But the price is uncertain and various.”
“Well, it’s cattle, not cutlery, I want to buy.”
“I sometimes sell cattle myself,” said the object, with a cunning look.
“It does not seem a very prosperous business then. Where do you get your stock?”
“Oh, I pick it up on the roads. You’ll find no cattle on the way to Carlisle. The country is swept bare in that direction. But I can lead you to a fine herd if you make it worth my while.”
“In which direction?”
“Down this way. Come along. Are you after any particular breed?”
“No. Anything there’s money in.”