“Time was when I could gain fifty without much trouble,” interrupted the old man.
“You cannot now, though; and five guineas is a good sum,” observed Arthur. “You’ll get that, but not more. Dame Marlow bids me tell you that the beaks will be on you; that you know where the young Squire of Bloxholme is hid away, and that if you would keep your neck out of a noose, you will show us where he is to be found.”
The old man sat down and began to rake the ashes of the fire with a stick. He did not ask his visitors to take seats, though, but he kept watching them warily out of the corners of his eyes. “Five golden guineas, five golden guineas,” he kept muttering. “Who are you who make the promise?”
“A friend of Mr Heathcote’s,” answered Arthur. “It will be faithfully kept with you, depend on that.”
“Who’s that man with you?”
Arthur told him.
“Ay, he looks as if he had the hay-seed in his hair,” observed old Jem. “I’d rather trust a seaman.”
“If I bring a seaman, one, perhaps, whom you know, will you trust him?” asked Arthur.
“Yes,” answered the old man, after a little thought.
Arthur made a sign to John Pratt to go and fetch Toby; but he seemed unwilling to leave Arthur alone.