--a man by no means ambitious of good beer, but very
ambitious of profits to the firm, a servant indeed almost invaluable
in such a business. But Tappitt had ever found him deficient in
this,--that he had a certain objectionable pride in having been
Bungall's servant, and that as such he thought himself absolved from
the necessity of subserviency to his latter master. Once a day indeed
he did touch his cap, but when that was done he seemed to fancy that
he was almost equal to Mr. Tappitt upon the premises. He never shook
in his shoes if Tappitt were angry, nor affected to hasten his steps
if Tappitt were in a hurry, nor would he even laugh at Tappitt's
jokes, if,--as was too usual,--such jokes were not mirth-moving in
their intrinsic nature. Clearly he was not at all points a good
servant, and Tappitt in some hours of his prosperity had ventured to
think that the brewery could go on without him. Now, since the day
in which Rowan's treachery had first loomed upon Tappitt, he had
felt much inclined to fraternize on easier terms with his foreman.
Worts when he touched his cap had been received with a smile, and
his advice had been asked in a flattering tone,--not demanded as
belonging to the establishment by right. Then Tappitt began to talk
of Rowan to his man, and to speak evil things of him, as was natural,
expecting a reciprocity of malignity from Worts. But Worts on such
occasions had been ominously silent. "H--m, I bean't so zure o'
that," Worts had once said, thus differing from his master on some
fundamental point of Tappitt strategy as opposed to Rowan strategy.
"Ain't you?" said Tappitt, showing his teeth. "You'd better go now
and look after those men at the carts." Worts had looked after the
men at the carts, but he had done so with an idea in his head that
perhaps he would not long look after Tappitt's men or Tappitt's
carts. He had not himself been ambitious of good beer, but the idea
had almost startled him into acquiescence by its brilliancy.

Now Worts had a vote in the borough, and it came to Tappitt's ears
that his servant intended to give that vote to Mr. Cornbury. "Worts,"
said he, a day or two before the election, "of course you intend to
vote for Mr. Hart?"

Worts touched his cap, for it was the commencement of the day.

"I don't jest know," said he. "I was thinking of woting for the young
squoire. I've know'd him ever since he was born, and I ain't never
know'd the Jew gentleman;--never at all."