"All right," said Cleg, "suppose we chance the moral characters."
"Done!" said the old soldier, offering Cleg his hand.
Cleg took it and wrung it hard.
"I think we'll agree very well," he said. "I may be Ruff by name, but I am Theophilus by nature. That's Greek, my boy—all I can remember, indeed. The folk about here will tell you that I am crazy. They are no judges. And my nephew wishes I were. Once his father tried to prove it. But when the judge had once looked inside my account books, and examined my system of bookkeeping, he said that, mad as I might be, it was a kind of madness which was very well able to take care of itself."
Cleg accompanied the General over the fields to his house. The walks and drives were completely overgrown with mossy grass and tangled ferns. The gates were all padlocked and spiked. Whenever the General came to one, he unlocked it with a brightly polished steel master-key which he took from his pocket. Then, as soon as they had passed through, he locked it behind him again as securely as before. "Spiked on the top," he said to Cleg, with a cunning look, "keeps out the women, you see. They don't like to have their frills and furbelows torn."
Cleg nodded as though he understood. He was not particular either way.
"By-the-bye, you don't mind coffins and things?" said the old soldier, glancing swiftly under his brows at Cleg.
"I don't think so, if they are empty. I yince slept in a coffin shop for three months!" said Cleg.
"Have you anything you want to settle before you engage with me?" asked the General.