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How much will you give me for it?" said she, undauntedly. "Don't want to buy it. Go somewhere else." "I shan't. Too much trouble. Besides, you're going to buy it, dear Dr. Mountchance." The imploring eyes, the beseeching voice, soft and musical, the modest yet assured manner, were too much for the old man.
Giles. Sally was not so sure about Lavinia. The slim girl was now a woman. She carried herself with an air. She had exchanged her shabby garments for clothes of a fashionable cut which she knew how to wear. Still, some chord in Sally's memory was stirred and she advanced into the shop with a puzzled look on her face. Mountchance received his fresh customer obsequiously.
Mountchance, whose scruples at taking charge of a wounded man who might probably die in his house were easily overcome. A few days later the following paragraph appeared in the Daily Post: "We learn that an affair of honour has taken place between A d D e, Esqr., of the Temple, and Mr.
Somebody must have seen you enter how else did they know you were here?" Another ominous splintering noise, then the sharp crack of ripping wood. "No more of this damned nonsense," muttered Rofflash, and swinging his arm he gave Mountchance a blow with the flat of his hand, toppling him over.
The two men looked at each other and Mountchance trembled. The crowd outside were not officers of the law, neither were they soldiery. What had caused them to hunt down Rofflash? Not because he had committed a robbery on the King's highway. The rabble had a secret sympathy with highwaymen. "What have you done?" whispered the old man through his white lips. "Shot a man.
Sally flung the brooch upon the table with such violence it bounced a foot in the air. "Gently gently, my good Sally," remonstrated Mountchance, "if you must vent your fury upon anything choose your own property, not mine." It was doubtful if the virago heard the request.
She had had sundry acquaintances among the pretty orange girls who plied their trade at Drury Lane and the Duke's theatres and had got to know how useful Dr. Mountchance was in buying presents bestowed upon them by young bloods flushed with wine, and in other ways. Hence when in want of money she looked upon her brooch she at once thought of the old man's shop on London Bridge.
"If the captain's made a good haul so much the better," he muttered. "It's time he did. He's had the devil's bad luck of late." The old man shuffled to the door and shot back the bolts. Rofflash precipitated himself inside with such haste and violence that he nearly upset Mountchance. "Lock the door," he gasped. "Quick. I've a pack of hungry wolves at my heels."
She was thoroughly natural and the humour lurking in her sparkling eyes was a weapon which few could resist. Dr. Mountchance unclasped a leather pouch and extracted a guinea. "You've a mighty coaxing tongue, you baggage. Keep it to yourself that I gave you what you asked, lest my reputation as a fair dealing man be gone for ever."
Mountchance, who at this moment was at a table in the centre examining a silver flagon and muttering comments upon it, was a little man about seventy, with an enormous head and a spare body and short legs. His face was wrinkled like a piece of wet shrivelled silk and his skin was the colour of parchment.
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