E. W. Hornung: Dead Men Tell No Tales

CHAPTER 13: THE LONGEST DAY OF MY LIFE (continued)

I took out three more sovereigns; not a penny higher durst I go.

"Will five pounds repay you? No need to tell your wife it was five, you know! I should keep four of them all to myself."

The cupidity of the little wretch was at last overcoming his abject cowardice. I could see him making up his miserable mind. And I still flatter myself that I took only safe (and really cunning) steps to precipitate the process. To offer him more money would have been madness; instead, I poured it all back into my pocket.

"All right!" I cried; "you're a greedy, cowardly, old idiot, and I'll just save my money." And out I marched into the moonlight, very briskly, towards the lane; he was so quick to follow me that I had no fears of the blunderbuss, but quickened my step, and soon had him running at my heels.

"Stop, stop, sir! You're that hasty wi' a poor owd man." So he whimpered as he followed me like the little cur he was.

"I'm hanged if I stop," I answered without looking back; and had him almost in tears before I swung round on him so suddenly that he yelped with fear. "What are you bothering me for?" I blustered. "Do you want me to wring your neck?"

"Oh, I'll go, sir! I'll go, I'll go," he moaned.

"I've a good mind not to let you. I wouldn't if I was fit to walk five miles."

"But I'll roon 'em, sir! I will that! I'll go as fast as iver I can!"

"And have a conveyance at the road-end of the lane as near an hour hence as you possibly can?"

"Why, there, sir!" he cried, crassly inspired; "I could drive you in our own trap in half the time."