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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

Then he
went on, 'I have something else for you. A friend of yours left
it at the gate,' and he handed me a packet.
'Quite so!' I said, leading his rascally face aright. 'And you
kept it as long as you dared--as long as you thought I should
hang, you knave! Was not that so? But there, do not lie to me.
Tell me instead which of my friends left it.' For, to confess
the truth, I had not so many friends at this time and ten good
crowns--the packet contained no less a sum--argued a pretty
staunch friend, and one of whom a man might reasonably be proud.
The knave sniggered maliciously. 'A crooked dwarfish man left
it,' he said. 'I doubt I might call him a tailor and not be far
out.'
'Chut!' I answered--but I was a little out of countenance,
nevertheless. 'I understand. An honest fellow enough, and in
debt to me! I am glad he remembered. But when am I to go,
friend?'
'In an hour,' he answered sullenly. Doubtless he had looked to
get one of the crowns; but I was too old a hand for that. If I
came back I could buy his services; and if I did not I should
have wasted my money.


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