"Ay, exactly," replied the latter, who had been making a mental calculation of the amount, and had arrived, although more slowly than his experienced lawyer, at the same result. "A serious soom," added the client.
"No trifle, indeed, Mr Lumsden," said Mr Langridge; "but it's safe enough. They're honest people."
"Ye'r aye harpin on that string," replied the stone-breaker, surlily; "but what signifies their honesty to me, if they'll no pay me my rent?"
"True, very true," said the law agent. "That's the only practical honesty."
"See you an' get thae arrears, at ony rate, oot o' them, if ye can, Mr Langridge; an', if ye canna, I suppose we maun juist want them. Ye needna push owre hard for them either, since they're in the state ye say. But ye'll surely mak the present half-year oot o' them. That maun be paid. Mind that, at ony rate, maun be paid, Mr Langridge." And saying this, he placed his old tattered hat, which he had hitherto held in his hand, on his head, and left the house.
On his departure, Mr Langridge hastily entered the apartment in which, he had left the messengers with their prisoner.
"We're just waiting marching orders, Mr Langridge," said the latter, on his entering, and making an attempt at playfulness, with which his spirit but ill accorded. "My friends here are getting tired of their charge, and anxious to be relieved of him."
"Are they so, Mr Reid?" replied Mr Langridge, smiling.
"Why, then, we had best relieve them at once." Then turning to the principal officer—"Quit your prisoner, Maxwell—the debt is settled. Mr Reid, you are at liberty."
The blood rushed to poor Reid's face, and then withdrew, leaving it as pale as death, and yet he could express no part of the feelings which caused these violent alternations. At length—