"You don't pass here, Mrs Salisbury. No--no--it's my turn now."
"Your turn now, you beast!" retorted Moggy. "Why, if I wished to pass,
this poker would soon clear the way; but I can pass without that, and I
will give you the countersign. Hark! a word in your ear, you wretch. You
are in my power. You have sent for a constable, and I swear by my own
Jemmy's little finger, which is worth your old shrivelled carcass, that
I shall give you in charge of the constable."
"Me!" exclaimed Vanslyperken.
"Yes, you--you wretch--you scum. Now I am going, stop me if you dare.
Walls have ears, so I'll whisper. If you wish to send a constable after
me, you'll find me at the house of the Jew Lazarus. Do you understand?"
Vanslyperken started back as if an adder had come before him, his sword
dropped out of his hand, he stood transfixed.
"May I go now, Mr Vanslyperken, or am I to wait for the constable?
Silence gives consent," continued Moggy, making a mock courtesy, and
walking out of the room.
For a minute, Vanslyperken remained in the same position. At last,
bursting with his feelings, he snatched up his sword, put it into the
sheath, and was about to quit the room, when in came the landlady with
the constable.
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