And, thus muttering to himself, he took his way to the farmyard, to find a messenger to despatch to the village for post-horses. The fact that he was not the owner of a half-crown in the world very painfully impressed itself on a negotiation, which, to be prompt, should be prepaid, and which he was endeavouring to explain to two or three very idle but very incredulous listeners--not one of whom could be induced to accept a ten miles’ tramp on a drizzling night without the prompting of a tip in advance. ‘It’s every step of eight miles,’ cried one. ‘No, but it’s ten,’ asseverated another with energy, ‘by rayson that you must go by the road. There’s nobody would venture across the bog in the dark.’ ‘Wid five shillings in my hand--’ ‘And five more when ye come back,’ continued another, who was terrified at the low estimate so rashly adventured. ‘If one had even a shilling or two to pay for a drink when he got in to Kilbeggan wet through and shivering--’ The speaker was not permitted to finish his ignominiously low proposal, and a low growl of disapprobation smothered his words. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ said Joe angrily, ‘that there’s not a man here will step over to the town to order a chaise and post-horses?’ ‘And if yer honour will put his hand in his pocket and tempt us with a couple of crown-pieces, there’s no saying what we wouldn’t do,’ said a little bandy old fellow, who was washing his face at the pump. ‘And are crown-pieces so plentiful with you down here that you can earn them so easily?’ said Atlee, with a sneer. ‘Be me sowl, yer honour, it’s thinking that they’re not so aisy to come at, makes us a bit lazy this evening!’ said a ragged fellow, with a grin, which was quickly followed by a hearty laugh from those around him. Something that sounded like a titter above his head made Atlee look up, and there, exactly over where he stood, was Nina, leaning over a little stone balcony in front of a window, an amused witness of the scene beneath. ‘I have two words for yourself,’ cried he to her in Italian. ‘Will you come down to the garden for one moment?’ ‘Cannot the two words be said in the drawing-room?’ asked she, half saucily, in the same language. ‘No, they cannot be said in the drawing-room,’ continued he sternly. ‘It’s dropping rain. I should get wet.’ ‘Take an umbrella, then, but come. Mind me, Signora Nina, I am the bearer of a message for you.’ There was something almost disdainful in the toss of her head as she heard these words, and she hastily retired from the balcony and entered the room.