Having thus disposed of Jinks, Mr. Rushton snorted.
"I don't like him," Verty said, "he does not seem to be sincere, and I think he is not a gentleman. But, I forget, sir; you asked me if there was any news. I _did_ hear some people talking at the corners of the street as I passed.
"The turn out of the Dutch and Irish people the day after tomorrow, sir."
"Hum!" growled Mr. Rushton, "we'll see about that! The authorities of Winchester are performing their duty after a pretty fashion, truly--to permit these villainous plots to be hatched tinder their very noses. What did you hear, sir?"
"They were whispering almost, sir, and if I had'nt been a hunter I could'nt have heard. They were saying that there would be knives as well as shillalies," said Verty.
"Hum! indeed! This must be looked to! Will we! The wretches. We are in a fine way when the public peace is to be sacrificed to the whim of some outlandish wretches."
"I do not know exactly what _outlandish_ means," Verty replied, with a smile.
A grim smile came to the lips of the lawyer also.
"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish."
"Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?"
"I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me."
Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence.
"You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin, which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces."
"'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying questions! I hate it because it lowers still more my opinion of this miserable humanity. I see everywhere rascality, and fraud, and lies; and because there is danger of becoming the color of the stuff I work in, 'like the dyer's hand.' I hate it," growled Mr. Rushton.
"But you must see many noble things, sir, too,--a great deal of goodness, you know."