"O, it is easy enow," said the pedler. "'T is just to give young Thomas Leicester, into his own hand, this here trifle as soon as ever he comes home." And he handed Carrick a hard substance wrapped up in paper. Carrick promised.
"Ay, ay, lad," said the pedler, "but see you play fair, and give it him unbeknown. Now don't you be so simple as show it to any of the womenfolk. D' ye understand?"
"All right," said Carrick, knowingly. And so the boon companions for a day shook hands and parted.
And Carrick took the little parcel straight to Mrs. Vint, and told her every word the pedler had said.
And Mrs. Vint took the little parcel straight to Mercy, and told her what Carrick said the pedler had said.
And the pedler went off flushed with beer and self-complacency; for he thought he had drawn the line precisely; had faithfully discharged his promise to his lady and benefactress, but not so as to make mischief in another household.
Such was the power of Ale—in the last century.
Mercy undid the paper and found the bullet, on which was engraved
"I LOVE KATE."
As she read these words a knife seemed to enter her heart, the pang was so keen.