It was quite dark when he was awakened by a push from Sikes. Rousing himself sufficiently to sit up and look about him, he found that worthy in close fellowship and communication with a labouring man, over a pint of ale.
‘So, you’re going on to Lower Halliford, are you?’ inquired Sikes.
‘Yes, I am,’ replied the man, who seemed a little the worse—or better, as the case might be—for drinking; ‘and not slow about it neither. My horse hasn’t got a load behind him going back, as he had coming up in the mornin’; and he won’t be long a-doing of it. Here’s luck to him. Ecod! he’s a good ‘un!’
‘Could you give my boy and me a lift as far as there?’ demanded Sikes, pushing the ale towards his new friend.
‘If you’re going directly, I can,’ replied the man, looking out of the pot. ‘Are you going to Halliford?’
‘Going on to Shepperton,’ replied Sikes.
‘I’m your man, as far as I go,’ replied the other. ‘Is all paid, Becky?’
‘Yes, the other gentleman’s paid,’ replied the girl.
‘I say!’ said the man, with tipsy gravity; ‘that won’t do, you know.’
‘Why not?’ rejoined Sikes. ‘You’re a-going to accommodate us, and wot’s to prevent my standing treat for a pint or so, in return?’