"This is no laughing matter."
"/Him!/" replied George, pointing to the retreating dog-cart--"/he's/
a-going to pull down the Castle and throw it into the moat and to send
the plough over it, is he? /Him/--that varmint! Why, them old towers
will be a-standing there when his beggarly bones is dust, and when his
name ain't no more a name; and there'll be one of the old blood
sitting in them too. I knaw it, and I hev allus knawed it. Come,
Squire, though you allus du say how as I'm a fule, what did I tell
yer? Didn't I tell yer that Prowidence weren't a-going to let this
place go to any laryers or bankers or thim sort? Why, in course I did.
And now you see. Not but what it is all owing to the Colonel. He was
the man as found it, but then God Almighty taught him where to dig.
But he's a good un, he is; and a gintleman, not like /him/," and once
more he pointed with unutterable scorn to the road down which Edward
Cossey had vanished.
"Now, look here," said the Squire, "don't you stand talking all day
about things you don't understand. That's the way you waste time. You
be off and look after this gold; it should not be left alone, you
know. We will come down presently to Molehill, for I suppose that is
where it is. No, I can't stop to hear the story now, and besides I
want Colonel Quaritch to tell it to me.
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