He was very sad that he had lost the chance
of swindling Sir Tancred Beauleigh out of 1450 pounds; and his sadness
and an occasional twinge of rheumatism filled him with thoughts of
revenge. Slowly he formed a plan of disabling Tinker by an unexpected
kick when he opened the door, thrashing him within an inch of his life,
riding off on his pony, and leaving him helpless, to starve or not,
according as he might be found. This plan was a real comfort to him.
He passed an unhaunted night; and next morning Tinker brought him more
food. For some hours he played at robber baron, and now and again held
conversations about the money-lender with his band. None of them
contained compliments. Mr. Lambert watched him with a sulky malignity,
and matured his plan.
The next morning he awoke late, but very cheerful at the prospect of
freedom and revenge. He came to the window rubbing his hands joyfully,
and saw a little parcel hanging from the bars. He opened it, and found
the key of the door, a little compass, and a letter. Swearing at his
vanished chance of revenge, he opened it; it ran:
Fly at once. Steer N. E. for Tulyspathe. Hamish believes you are
uncanny, and has molded a silver bullet out of a half crown to lay your
resless spirrit with.
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