'By
the bye'--and here he stopped and warmed his hands: then suddenly looked
up--'who threw that stone to-day?'
Mr Dennis coughed and shook his head, as who should say, 'A mystery
indeed!' Hugh sat and smoked in silence.
'It was well done!' said the secretary, warming his hands again. 'I
should like to know that man.'
'Would you?' said Dennis, after looking at his face to assure himself
that he was serious. 'Would you like to know that man, Muster Gashford?'
'I should indeed,' replied the secretary.
'Why then, Lord love you,' said the hangman, in his hoarest chuckle,
as he pointed with his pipe to Hugh, 'there he sits. That's the man. My
stars and halters, Muster Gashford,' he added in a whisper, as he
drew his stool close to him and jogged him with his elbow, 'what a
interesting blade he is! He wants as much holding in as a thorough-bred
bulldog. If it hadn't been for me to-day, he'd have had that 'ere Roman
down, and made a riot of it, in another minute.'
'And why not?' cried Hugh in a surly voice, as he overheard this last
remark. 'Where's the good of putting things off? Strike while the iron's
hot; that's what I say.'
'Ah!' retorted Dennis, shaking his head, with a kind of pity for his
friend's ingenuous youth; 'but suppose the iron an't hot, brother! You
must get people's blood up afore you strike, and have 'em in the humour.
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