alks none, even in my liquor.
I'm a peaceable man, and no bully, and only wants to live quiet,' said
Irons in a hurry.

'A disciple of _my_ school, you're right, Irons, that's my way; _I_
never _name_ Charles except to the two or three who meet him, and then
only when I can't help it, just as you do; fellows of that kidney I
always take quietly, and I've prospered. Sturk would do well to
reconsider his message. Were _I_ in his shoes, I would not eat an egg or
a gooseberry, or drink a glass of fair water from that stream, while he
was in the country, for fear of _poison_! curse him! and to think of
Sturk expecting to meet him, and walk with him, after such a message,
together, as you and I do here. Do you see that tree?'

It was a stout poplar, just a yard away from Irons's shoulder; and as
Dangerfield pronounced the word 'tree,' his hand rose, and the sharp
report of a pocket-pistol half-deafened Irons's ear.

'I say,' said Dangerfield, with a startling laugh, observing Irons
wince, and speaking as the puff of smoke crossed his face, 'he'd lodge a
bullet in the cur's heart, as suddenly as I've shot that tree;' the
bullet had hit the stem right in the centre, 'and swear he was going to
rob him.'

Irons eyed him with a livid squint, but answered nothing. I think he
acquiesced in Dangerfield's dreadful estimate of Charles Archer's
character.

'But we must give the devil his due; Charles can do a handsome thing
sometimes. You shall judge. It seems he saw you, and you him--here, in
this town, some months ago, and each knew the other, and you've seen him
since, and done likewise; but you said nothing, and he liked your
philosophy, and hopes you'll accept of this, which from its weight I
take to be a little rouleau of guineas.'

During this speech Irons seemed both angry and frightened, and looked
darkly enough before him on the water; and his lips were moving, as if
in a running commentary upon it all the while.

When Dangerfield put the little roll in his hand, Irons looked
suspicious and frightened, and balanced it in his palm, as if he had
thoughts of chucking it from him, as though it were literally a satanic
douceur. But it is hard to part with money, and Irons, though he still
looked cowed and unhappy, put the money into his breeches' pocket, and
he made a queer bow, and he said--

'You know, Sir, I never asked a farthing.'

'Ay, so he says,' answered Dangerfield.

'And,' with an imprecation, Irons added, '