‘Well, sir, with my respects, I take it he has a hole bang through him,’ said Sam. ‘The doctor hasn’t been yet. He’d ‘a’ been bright and early if it had been a passenger. But, doctor or no, I’ll make a good guess that Tom won’t see to-morrow. He’ll die on a Sunday, will poor Tom; and they do say that’s fortunate.’
‘Did Tom see him that did it?’ asked Jonathan.
‘Well, he saw him,’ replied Sam, ‘but not to swear by. Said he was a very tall man, and very big, and had a ’ankerchief about his face, and a very quick shot, and sat his horse like a thorough gentleman, as he is.’
‘A gentleman!’ cried Nance. ‘The dirty knave!’
‘Well, I calls a man like that a gentleman,’ returned the ostler; ‘that’s what I mean by a gentleman.’
‘You don’t know much of them, then,’ said Nance.
‘A gentleman would scorn to stoop to such a thing. I call my uncle a better gentleman than any thief.’
‘And you would be right,’ said Mr. Archer.
‘How many snuff-boxes did he get?’ asked Jonathan.
‘O, dang me if I know,’ said Sam; ‘I didn’t take an inventory.’