But have it I must.

'Twill be no great discomfort for you to walk to Norwich.

You may do it in an hour." "My horse, sir, is not for sale," was Kenneth's brief answer.

"Give you good night." "Hold, man! Blood and hell, stop! If you'll not sell the worthless beast to serve a gentleman, I'll shoot it under you.

Make your choice." Kenneth caught the gleam of a pistol-barrel pointed at him from the hedge, and he shivered.