Pasco tried to raise his right arm, failed, then he clapped his left hand to his brow.
“Good heavens!” he almost shouted; “I’ve done it all for naught.”
“Done what?” asked the innkeeper.
Pasco recovered himself.
“Nothing. I am stunned. This has turned my head. Lend me your arm. I must go in. No—I must return home—get me another horse—I cannot stay. Quick; I must return—oh, be quick.”
“Well, that’s coorious!” said the landlord. “I reckon you ought to go in and listen to what the lawyer has to say, first. As for horses, I don’t keep ’em, and the lawyer’s post-horses be gone into the stable for the night.”
“Lend me your arm,” said Pepperill. “I don’t know right what I’m about. This has come on me quite unexpected.”
“I wish three thousand pounds’d come unexpected on me,” replied the host.
Pasco entered the room where the lawyer was eating.
“That’s right,” said the latter. “Take a snack. There’s some for all, I say, with my rasher, and you may say so with your legacy, and give me a slice off your dish. Polly—a plate and knife and fork for the gentleman.”