Egremont (appears puzzled). Can't understand you.
Gayters. Perhaps you'll understand this (takes out cheque). Mr. Polyblock says, 'Gayters,' says he, 'we've not been half sharp this time; this here land ought to have been secured. But the young chap's been and got the pull, and we can't afford to lose our main camp. Of course he'll go pounding our stock night and day; so you take him this five 'undred pound—five 'undred! and give it him on conditions as he does the residence for twelve months and then conveys the s'lection over to me, all legal and ship-shape,' says he—and here it is. (Hands out cheque.) Ha! ha! I expect you understand me now.
Egremont (rising slowly). I believe I do.
Gayters (rising quickly). Just you sign this, then.
Egremont (with lofty anger). Confound your cheque, sir! Take it back, and with it my scorn and contempt, which you can present to your master, telling him from me, at the same time, that you are a pair of scoundrels!
Gayters. Scoundrels! What d'ye mean? Are yer off yer chump? A free selector to call the Hon'ble Mr. Polyblock of Bundabah and his super a pair of scoundrels! Take care what you're about, young man. A camp's a public place, or close up. 'Words calculated to cause a breach of the peace——'
Egremont (deliberately). Yes, scoundrels! First of all to insult a gentleman by treating him as a rascally blackmailer; secondly, by offering an honest man money to break the law of the land—to violate every principle of honour and integrity. And now, if you don't quit my land at once, I'll kick you from here into the brook!
Gayters (hastily mounting). You take care what you're about, young man—two can play at that game. (Aside—Most extraordinary chap! Rummest free selector I ever seen.)
Later—Bundabah House—The Hon'ble Mr. Polyblock in his morning room, pacing up and down, disturbed in mind. Enter Gayters.
Mr. Polyblock. Well, what is it? He's got the money of course—I'm always had, seems to me. D'ye want any more cheques? If you'd been half sharp enough he'd never have been there.