nd not the
rider."

"Yes, I daresay--trust my horse to you!"

"As you please," said Dunstan, rapping the window-seat again with an
air of great unconcern. "It's _you_ have got to pay Fowler's money;
it's none of my business. You received the money from him when you
went to Bramcote, and _you_ told the Squire it wasn't paid. I'd nothing
to do with that; you chose to be so obliging as to give it me, that was
all. If you don't want to pay the money, let it alone; it's all one to
me. But I was willing to accommodate you by undertaking to sell the
horse, seeing it's not convenient to you to go so far to-morrow."

Godfrey was silent for some moments. He would have liked to spring on
Dunstan, wrench the whip from his hand, and flog him to within an inch
of his life; and no bodily fear could have deterred him; but he was
mastered by another sort of fear, which was fed by feelings stronger
even than his resentment. When he spoke again, it was in a
half-conciliatory tone.

"Well, you mean no nonsense about the horse, eh? You'll sell him all
fair, and hand over the money? If you don't, you know, everything 'ull
go to smash, for I've got nothing else to trust to. And you'll have
less pleasure in pulling the house over my head, when your own skull's
to be broken too."

"Aye, aye," said Dunstan, rising; "all right. I thought you'd come
round. I'm the fellow to bring old Bryce up to the scratch. I'll get
you a hundred and twenty for him, if I get you a penny."

"But it'll perhaps rain cats and dogs to-morrow, as it did yesterday,
and then you can't go," said Godfrey, hardly knowing whether he wished
for that obstacle or not.

"Not _it_," said Dunstan. "I'm always lucky in my weather. It might
rain if you wanted to go yourself. You never hold trumps, you know--I
always do. You've got the beauty, you see, and I've got the luck, so
you must keep me by you for your crooked sixpence; you'll _ne_-ver get
along without me."

"Confound you, hold your tongue!" said Godfrey, impetuously. "And take
care to keep sober to-morrow, else you'll get pitched on your head
coming home, and Wildfire might be the worse for it."

"Make your tender heart easy," said Dunstan, opening the door. "You
never knew me see double when I'd got a bargain to make; it 'ud spoil
the fun. Besides, whenever I fall, I'm warranted to fall on my legs."

With that, Dunstan slammed the door behind him, and left Godfrey to
that bitter rumination on h