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woman need give herself that trouble； for to tell you the truth； I am
not inclined to smoke it today。”
“Ain’t you？” returns the old man。 “Judy； bring the pipe。”
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“The fact is； Mr Smallweed；” proceeds George； “that I find
myself in rather an unpleasant state of mind。 It appears to me； sir；
that your friend in the city has been playing tricks。”
“O dear no！” says Grandfather Smallweed。 “He never does
that！”
“Don’t he？ Well； I am glad to hear it； because I thought it might
be his doing。 This； you know； I am speaking of。 This letter。”
Grandfather Smallweed smiles in a very ugly way； in
recognition of the letter。
“What does it mean？” asks Mr George。
“Judy；” says the old man； “have you got the pipe？ Give it to me。
Did you say what does it mean； my good friend？”
“Aye！ Now； come； come； you know； Mr Smallweed；” urges the
trooper； constraining himself to speak as smoothly and
confidentially as he can； holding the open letter in one hand； and
resting the broad knuckles of the other on his thigh； “a good lot of
money has passed between us； and we are face to face at the
present moment； and are both well aware of the understanding
there has always been。 I am prepared to do the usual thing which I
have done regularly； and to keep this matter going。 I never got a
letter like this from you before； and I have been a little put about
by it this morning； because here’s my friend Matthew Bagnet；
who； you know； had none of the money—”
“I don’t know it； you know；” says the old man； quietly。
“Why； confound you—it； I mean—I tell you so； don’t I？”
“Oh； yes； you tell me so；” returns Grandfather Smallweed。 “But
I don’t know it。”
“Well！” says the trooper； swallowing his fire。 “I know it。”
Mr Smallweed replies with excellent temper； “Ah！ that’s quite
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another thing！” And adds； “but it don’t matter。 Mr Bagnet’s
situation is all one； whether or no。”
The unfortunate George makes a great effort to arrange the
affair comfortably； and to propitiate Mr Smallweed by taking him
upon his own terms。
“That’s just what I mean。 As you say； Mr Smallweed； here’s
Matthew Bagnet liable to be fixed whether or no。 Now； you see；
that makes his good lady very uneasy in her mind； and me too； for；
whereas I’m a harum…scarum sort of a good…for…nought； that more
kicks than halfpence come natural to； why he’s a steady family
man； don’t you see？ Now； Mr Smallweed；” says the trooper；
gaining confidence as he proceeds in this soldierly mode of doing
business； “although you and I are good friends enough in a certain
sort of a way； I am well aware that I can’t ask you to let my friend
Bagnet off entirely。”
“O dear； you are too modest。 You can ask me anything； Mr
George。” （There is an Ogreish kind of jocularity in Grandfather
Smallweed today。） “And you can refuse； you mean； eh？ Or not you
so much； perhaps； as your friend in the city？ Ha ha ha！”
“Ha ha ha！” echoes Grandfather Smallweed。 In such a very
hard manner； and with eyes so particularly green； that Mr
Bagnet’s natural gravity is much deepened by the contemplation
of that venerable man。
“Come！” says the sanguine George； “I am glad to find we can be
pleasant； because I want to arrange this pleasantly。 Here’s my
friend Bagnet； and here am I。 We’ll settle the matter on the spot； if
you please； Mr Smallweed； in the usual way。 And you’ll ease my
friend Bagnet’s mind； and his family’s mind； a good deal； if you’ll
just mention to him what our understanding is。”
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Here some shrill spectre cries out in a mocking manner； “O
good gracious！ O！”—unless； indeed； it be the sportive Judy； who is
found to be silent when the startled visitors look round； but whose
chin has received a recent toss； expressive of derision and
contempt。 Mr Bagnet’s gravity becomes yet more profound。
“But I think you asked me； Mr George；” old Smallweed； who all
this time had the pipe in his hand； is the speaker now； “I think you
asked me； what did the letter mean？”
“Why； yes； I did；” returns the trooper； in his offhand way： “but I
don’t care to know particularly； if it’s all correct and pleasant。”
Mr Smallweed； purposely balking himself in an aim at the
trooper’s head； throws the pipe on the ground and breaks it to
pieces。
“That’s what it means； my dear friend。 I’ll smash you。 I’ll
crumble you。 I’ll powder you。 Go to the devil！”
The two friends rise and look at one another。 Mr Bagnet’s
gravity has now attained its profoundest point。
“Go to the devil！” repeats the old man。 “I’ll have no more of
your pipe…smoking and swaggerings。 What？ You’re an
independent dragoon； too！ Go to my lawyer （you remember where；
you have been there before）； and show your independence now；
will you？ Come； my dear friend； there’s a chance for you。 Open the
street door； Judy； put these blusterers out！ Call in help if they
don’t go。 Put ’em out！”
He vociferates this so loudly； that Mr Bagnet； laying his hands
on the shoulders of his comrade； before the latter can recover from
his amazement； gets him on the outside of the street…door； which is
instantly slammed by the triumphant Judy。 Utterly confounded；
Mr George awhile stands looking at the knocker。 Mr Bagnet； in a
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perfect abyss of gravity； walks up and down before the little
parlour window； like a sentry； and looks in every time he passes；
apparently revolving something in his mind。
“Come； Mat！” says Mr George； when he has recovered himself；
“we must try the lawyer。 Now； what do you think of this rascal？”
Mr Bagnet； stopping to take a farewell look into the parlour；
replies； with one shake of his head directed at the interior； “If my
old girl had been here—I’d have told him！” Having so discharged
himself of the subject of his cogitations； he falls into step； and
marches off with the trooper； shoulder to shoulder。
When they present themselves in Lincoln’s Inn Fields； Mr
Tulkinghorn is engaged； and not to be seen。 He is nor at all willing
to see them： for when they have waited a full hour； and the clerk；
on his bell being rung； takes the opportunity of mentioning as
much； he brings no more encouraging message than