When the meal was finished and the ale all consumed, he rose with a grunt of repletion, and, pulling a roll of black tobacco from his pocket, proceeded to cut it into slices, and to cram it into his pipe. Ezra drew a chair up to the fire, and his father did the same, after ordering the old woman out of the room and carefully closing the door behind her.
"You have spoken to our friend here about the business?" Girdlestone asked, nodding his head in the direction of Burt.
"Yes. I have made it all clear."
"Five hundred pounds down, and a free passage to Africa," said Burt.
"An energetic man like you can do a great deal in the colonies with five hundred pounds," Girdlestone remarked.
"What I do with it is nothin' to you, guv'nor," Burt remarked surlily. "I does the job, you pays the money, and there's an end as far as you are concerned."
"Quite so," the merchant said in a conciliatory voice. "You are free to do what you like with the money."
"Without axin' your leave," growled Burt. He was a man of such a turbulent and quarrelsome disposition that he was always ready to go out of his way to make himself disagreeable.
"The question is how it is to be done," interposed Ezra. He was looking very nervous and uneasy. Hard as he was, he had neither the pseudo-religious monomania of his father, nor the callous brutality of Burt, and he shuddered at the thought of what was to come. His eyes were red and bleared, and he sat with one arm thrown over the back of his chair, while he drummed nervously with the fingers of his other hand upon his knee. "You've got some plan in your head, I suppose," he said to his father. "It's high time the thing was carried through, or we shall have to put up the shutters in Fenchurch Street."
His father shivered at the very thought. "Anything rather than that," he said.
"It will precious soon come to that. It was the devil of a fight to keep things straight last week."
"What's the matter with your lip? It seems to be swollen."
"I had a turn with that fellow Dimsdale," Ezra answered, putting his hand up to his mouth to hide the disfigurement. "He followed us to the station, and we had to beat him off; but I think I left my marks upon him."
"He played some damned hokey-pokey business on me," said Burt. "He tripped me in some new-fangled way, and nigh knocked the breath out of me. I don't fall as light as I used."
"He did not succeed in tracing you?" Girdlestone asked uneasily. "There is no chance of his turning up here and spoiling the whole business?"
"Not the least," said Ezra confidently. "He was in the hands of a policeman when I saw him last."
"That is well. Now I should like, before we go further, to say a few words to Mr. Burt as to what has led up to this."
"You haven't got a drop to drink, boss?"
"Yes, yes, of course. What is that in the bottle over there? Ginger wine. How will that do?"
"Here's something better," Ezra said, rummaging in the cupboard. "Here is a bottle of Hollands. It is Mrs. Jorrocks' private store, I fancy."
Burt poured himself out half a tumblerful, and filled it up with water. "Drive along," he said; "I am lisnin'."
Girdlestone rose and stood with his back to the fire, and his hands under his coat-tails. "I wish you to understand," he said, "that this is no sudden determination of ours, but that events have led up to it in such a way that it was impossible to avoid it. Our commercial honour and integrity are more precious to us than anything else, and we have both agreed that we are ready to sacrifice anything rather than lose it. Unfortunately, our affairs have become somewhat involved, and it was absolutely necessary that the firm should have a sum of money promptly in order to extricate itself from its difficulties. This sum we endeavoured to get through a daring speculation in diamonds, which was, though I say it, ingeniously planned and cleverly carried out, and which would have succeeded admirably had it not been for an unfortunate chance."
"I remember," said Burt.