‘And I forgot the part of cowardice,’ resumed Mr. Archer. ‘All men fear.’
‘O, surely not!’ cried Nance.
‘All men,’ reiterated Mr. Archer.
‘Ay, that’s a true word,’ observed Old Cumberland, ‘and a thief, anyway, for it’s a coward’s trade.’
‘But these fellows, now,’ said Jonathan, with a curious, appealing manner—‘these fellows with their seventy pounds! Perhaps, Mr. Archer, they were no true thieves after all, but just people who had been robbed and tried to get their own again. What was that you said, about all England and the taxes? One takes, another gives; why, that’s almost fair. If I’ve been rooked and robbed, and the coat taken off my back, I call it almost fair to take another’s.’
‘Ask Old Cumberland,’ observed the ostler; ‘you ask Old Cumberland, Miss Nance!’ and he bestowed a wink upon his favoured fair one.
‘Why that?’ asked Jonathan.
‘He had his coat taken—ay, and his shirt too,’ returned the ostler.
‘Is that so?’ cried Jonathan eagerly. ‘Was you robbed too?’
‘That was I,’ replied Cumberland, ‘with a warrant! I was a well-to-do man when I was young.’