A ray of interest lit up Rhys’ face.
“And I’ll tell Hondy to ask for a sight of it again,” continued Bumpett, seeing that he had caught the other’s attention, “an’ bring it up to show ye; leastways, if it’s not lost wi’ all the moyther he’s had i’ the house wi’ that young miss o’ his.”
“What do you say?” exclaimed Walters, coming closer to Bumpett.
“I said I’d get the newspaper an’ show ye what ye’ve done wi’ yer tomfooleries.”
“What did you say about Mr. Lewis?” cried Rhys, taking hold of the Pig-driver.
“I said he was likely moythered wi’ that young niece of his and her doin’s.”
“But she is in Hereford,” broke out the young man.
“In Hereford? Not she. She’s off to London wi’ young Squire Fenton. Run out one mornin’ when the old boy was between the blankets an’ up to Hereford an’ got married to him. He’s been left a fine fortune. She didn’t forget that, I’ll be bound, no, no indeed.”
Bumpett had hardly time to end his sentence before Rhys sprang at him like a wild cat and gripped him by the collar.