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Mr Dengate had said that his man should save plenty of gentles for him; but Dexter resolved not to wait for them that day, but to try what he could do with worms and paste. So his first proceeding was to appeal to Mrs Millett for a slice or two of bread. Mrs Millett was not in the kitchen, but Maria was, and on being appealed to, she said sharply that she was not the cook.
Hilliard planted his elbow in the window of the carriage and propped his cheek on his hand. "Yes; and a few other things," rejoined the well-dressed man. "How to make money, for instance. Well, haven't you any insult ready?" The other looked out at a row of flaring chimneys, which the train was rushing past: he kept silence. "Go down to Liverpool," pursued Dengate, "and make inquiries about me.
I've been watching the police news in the London papers." In a maddening access of rage, Hilliard clenched his fist and struck fiercely at the man. But he did no harm, for his aim was wild, and Dengate easily warded off the blows. "Hold on! You're drunk, of course. Stop it, my lad, or I'll have you locked up till Monday morning.
If you go down to Liverpool, and ask men of credit for their opinion about Charles Edward Dengate, you'll have a lesson that would profit you. I can see you're one of the young chaps who think a precious deal of themselves; I'm often coming across them nowadays, and I generally give them a piece of my mind." Hilliard smiled. "If you gave them the whole, it would be no great generosity." "Eh?
"May I go?" he added. "Yes, yes; we'll see," said the doctor; "and it's very kind of Mr Dengate to give you leave." "Oh, that's nothing, sir. He's welcome as the flowers in May; but what I wanted to say, sir, was that as they're my fields, and people who comes is only trespassers, I've a right to put anything I like there. I don't put danger for the public: they comes to the danger."
The doctor rubbed his hands and chuckled, and Helen went to bed that night better pleased with her task. Sir James Danby, who was the magnate of Coleby, sent a very furious letter to Dengate the butcher, threatening proceedings against him for allowing a herd of dangerous bullocks to be at large in one of his fields, and ordering him to remove them at once.
Topley lathered Dengate's red round face, and scraped it perfectly clean, feeling it all over with his soapy fingers, as well as carefully inspecting it with his eye, to make sure that none of the very bristly stubble was left. While Topley shaved, Dengate made plans, and as soon as the operation was over he went back home, and what he called "cleaned hisself."
The men gazed at each other, Dengate superbly triumphant, Hilliard incredulous but betraying excitement. "I'm going to pay you four hundred and thirty-six pounds," Dengate repeated. "No less and no more. It isn't a legal debt, so I shall pay no interest. But go with me when we get to Birmingham, and you shall have my cheque for four hundred and thirty-six pounds." The train began to move on.
I met that scoundrel Dengate, and he's paid me the money he owed my father." "He has paid it? Oh! really?" "See, here's a cheque, and I think it likely I can turn it into cash. The blackguard has been doing well at Liverpool. I'm not quite sure that I understand the reptile, but he seems to have given me this because I abused him.
Hilliard would have passed without attention, but the man stopped his way. "Hollo! Here we are again!" He stared at the speaker, and recognised Mr. Dengate. "So you've come back?" "Where from?" said Hilliard. "What do you know of me?" "As much as I care to," replied the other with a laugh. "So you haven't quite gone to the devil yet? I gave you six months.
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