"Why then," said Affidavy,—"Hum, ha—we won't be particular. Jail-doors will open sometimes; and in case of an hundred guineas down on the nail—(a dangerous business, captain!)—and something more in prospect—(you understand, captain?)—Reputation, captain, reputation! 'T may bring me by the heels, captain.—Another hundred therefore, (say, to be paid at New York; for I don't care if I turn tory along with you, provided I am not set to fighting:) an hundred on the nail, and another at York city, and I don't care if I close with you. And then, we must have fifty or so for Bob Lingo; (no managing such an affair without money.) A deused dull county this, and business all worn out. So, captain, an hundred on the nail, and"——
"It is enough," said the refugee; "you talk now like a man of sense; and here are the twenty for earnest. Let us proceed; I have more to tell you."
Then rising, and whistling to his horse, which obeyed the summons, and followed him with great docility, he led the way with Affidavy along the road, exchanging counsels with this precious limb of the law, on the subject that had drawn him so near to the head quarters of his foes.
CHAPTER XIV.
| What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Hast made thine enemies?—— Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die. SHAKSPEARE. |
On the following morning, Affidavy presented himself at the prison, and demanded access to his client.
"Client!" said the jailer, with a stare. "Why now, Affidavy, man, (begging your pardon for being familiar,) there's none of your birds roosting in my hen-house."
"A smaller on that, Lingo,—come, what will you lay?" said the man of law, seizing upon the official's hand, and shaking it with great apparent friendship. "Come, stir about, Lingo; clink, clink, stir bolt, clash key, and open. It's long since we've had a crack together; but we'll have a jolly rouse yet. Ah! that knotty old Schlachtenschlager! my head is in a reel yet; must have something to steady my nerves."
"Well, squire," said Lingo, a coarse-featured, shag-headed personage, with a fist like the butt of an oak-tree, and altogether a low and mean look which might have been supposed to sink him below the notice of the attorney, had not Affidavy's habits made him long since a fitting associate for even a meaner man; "Well, squire," he said, with an air as if even he regarded his visiter with some little contempt, "I don't care if I treat you to a drop; though my whiskey's none of the smoothest, neither."