'
'Come,' said Elzevir, 'give me a charge or two, and there is half a crown
for thee.' And he took the coin out of his pocket and showed it.
The boy's eyes twinkled, and so would mine at so valuable a piece, and
he took out from his pocket a battered cowskin flask. 'Give flask and
all,' said Elzevir, 'and thou shalt have a crown,' and he showed him the
larger coin.
No time was wasted in words; Elzevir had the flask in his pocket, and the
boy was biting the crown.
'What shot have you?' said Elzevir.
'What! have you dropped your shot-flask too?' asked the boy. And his
voice had something of surprise in it.
'Nay, but my shot are over small; if thou hast a slug or two, I would
take them.' 'I have a dozen goose-slugs, No. 2,' said the boy; 'but
thou must pay a shilling for them. My master says I never am to use them,
except I see a swan or buzzard, or something fit to cook, come over: I
shall get a sound beating for my pains, and to be beat is worth a
shilling.'
'If thou art beat, be beat for something more,' says Elzevir the tempter.
'Give me that firelock that thou carriest, and take a guinea.'
'Nay, I know not,' says the boy; 'there are queer tales afloat at
Lowermoigne, how that a Posse met the Contraband this morning, and shots
were fired, and a gauger got an overdose of lead--maybe of goose slugs
No.
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