“But where is that money to come from, dame?” said Jenkin; “there is a question I would fain have answered before I touch it.”
“Why, what a fool art thou to ask such a question! Suppose I am content to advance it to please young madam, what is the harm then?”
“I will suppose no such thing,” said Jenkin, hastily; “I know that you, dame, have no gold to spare, and maybe would not spare it if you had—so that cock will not crow. It must be from Margaret herself.”
“Well, thou suspicious animal, and what if it were?” said Ursula.
“Only this,” replied Jenkin, “that I will presently to her, and learn if she has come fairly by so much ready money; for sooner than connive at her getting it by any indirection, I would hang myself at once. It is enough what I have done myself, no need to engage poor Margaret in such villainy—I'll to her, and tell her of the danger—I will, by heaven!”
“You are mad to think of it,” said Dame Suddlechop, considerably alarmed—“hear me but a moment. I know not precisely from whom she got the money; but sure I am that she obtained it at her godfather's.”
“Why, Master George Heriot is not returned from France,” said Jenkin.
“No,” replied Ursula, “but Dame Judith is at home—and the strange lady, whom they call Master Heriot's ghost—she never goes abroad.”
“It is very true, Dame Suddlechop,” said Jenkin; “and I believe you have guessed right—they say that lady has coin at will; and if Marget can get a handful of fairy-gold, why, she is free to throw it away at will.”
“Ah, Jin Vin,” said the dame, reducing her voice almost to a whisper, “we should not want gold at will neither, could we but read the riddle of that lady!”