"But
what do you make of it all? Did the old woman lie?"
"Without a doubt she did. If she's of Mother Needham's tribe she can lie
like truth. Lies are half of the trade and the other half is to squeeze
the cull of as much gold as he can be fooled out of. Can't you see sir,
that her trick is to spring her price? I'll wager her fifty guineas has
swollen to a hundred when next you see her. With traffickers in virgins
the price grows as rapidly as Jonah's gourd."
"Aye, it may be so. Well, what then? Have you got a plan?"
Captain Jeremy Rofflash placed a dirty forefinger by the side of his
nose, slowly closed one eye and a greasy smile widened his thick, red
moist lips.
"Have I a plan, sir? Trust Jeremy Rofflash for that. By God, sir, I'll
swear there's no man in the world readier with a plan when its wanted.
Look ye here, Mr. Dorrimore, I've the whole thing cut and dried in the
hollow of my hand. To come to the point. The old harridan means to
fleece you. _I_ don't. Damme sir, I'm a man of my word. For a hundred
guineas I'll let you into a secret and if I fail I won't ask you for a
stiver. Is that fair or isn't it?"
"I'll swear you're no better than Mother Fenton, but I'd rather deal
with a man than a woman. Done with you for a hundred. Say on."
"It's just this. I was within earshot when the loving pair were in
Paul's Churchyard. They're to meet at Rosamond's Pond to-morrow evening
at seven.
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