"1847.—November 18.—Thomas said Allan was fresh from Scotland, being Scottish born, and that his wife was Irish, and that they had a child called Paul, only a few months old, and not yet walking."
It was the parson's diary.
"That's good enough, ain't it, Master Hugh Ritson?" said Drayton, with an ungainly bow, and a vast show of civility, followed instantly by a sidelong leer at his cronies about him.
Hugh Ritson held himself stiffly, and merely said:
"Where did you get it?"
At this question there were sundry snorts and titters and muttered responses from the men at the tables. Hugh's eyes passed over them with a steely glance.
"Stolen it, I suppose," he said quietly.
"Ay," said Drayton, "and a neat job too. Natt 'ticed away the Methodee man while I borrowed it."
Drayton seemed to be proud of his share in the transaction, and his friends laughed loudly at the adroit turn he had given to the matter. Natt's drowsy eyes were preternaturally bright at that great moment.
Hugh Ritson's forehead darkened with ire.