‘Uncle,’ said Nance, ‘what should Mr. Archer care for your concerns? He hath troubles of his own, and came to be at peace, I think.’
‘I tried to make her understand me,’ repeated Jonathan doggedly; ‘and now I’ll try you. Do you think this world is fair?’
‘Fair and false!’ quoth Mr. Archer.
The old man laughed immoderately. ‘Good,’ said he, ‘very good, but what I mean is this: do you know what it is to get up early and go to bed late, and never take so much as a holiday but four: and one of these your own marriage day, and the other three the funerals of folk you loved, and all that, to have a quiet old age in shelter, and bread for your old belly, and a bed to lay your crazy bones upon, with a clear conscience?’
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Archer, with an inclination of his head, ‘you portray a very brave existence.’
‘Well,’ continued Jonathan, ‘and in the end thieves deceive you, thieves rob and rook you, thieves turn you out in your old age and send you begging. What have you got for all your honesty? A fine return! You that might have stole scores of pounds, there you are out in the rain with your rheumatics!’
Mr. Archer had forgotten to eat; with his hand upon his chin he was studying the old man’s countenance. ‘And you conclude?’ he asked.
‘Conclude!’ cried Jonathan. ‘I conclude I’ll be upsides with them.’
‘Ay,’ said the other, ‘we are all tempted to revenge.’
‘You have lost money?’ asked Jonathan.