"Enough!" groaned Ferguson. "A godless man is not to be persuaded of his evil-doing."
"Nor yet beguiled," snapped Ammon.
"Tut, tut, no more of that. You named a price. Let's see, now" (here I heard him scratch his tousled wig), "was it not fifty guineas?"
"The godlessness is on your side, methinks, friend Ferguson," sneered Ammon. "For verily you have a lie upon your lips. Full well you know the price was double that."
"What?" cracked Ferguson. "A hundr-r-ed guineas! Why, 'tis shee-r-r madness, man! Pr-r-e-poster-rous!" (His "r's" rolled like a drum.)
"Nathless, 'tis my price," returned the other coldly.
"But, man, good man! I have not such a wicked price upon me!"
"Another lie! for verily I see your pockets bulging with it. Have a care, friend Ferguson, or it may well go higher still."
"Nay, nay, that were impossible. Come, friend, let us bargain fairly. Say eighty guineas, and 'tis yours this instant."
"A hundred guineas!" answered Ammon sharply, "and that also instantly, or verily I take the thing away with me for ever. Look you, friend Ferguson, for over half an hour we have sat parleying here, and still you clutch your filthy gold and strive to trick me of my due. Have I not risked my very life to get this paltry thing, and was not the price agreed upon between us? Aye, verily; and unless 'tis paid down now, before these lips of mine have counted ten, that which you crave is gone from you for ever. Methinks I might make more of it elsewhere. One--two----"