He lounged at the door of the low-gabled cottage, looking
out into the village street with a moody and sullen countenance.
He drank a great deal, and swore not a little, and led altogether as
dissolute a life as it was possible to lead in that peaceful village.
No sooner had Mr. Milsom established himself at Raynham, than he made
it his business to find out the exact state of affairs at the castle.
He contrived to entice one of the under-servants into his bar-parlour,
and entertained the man so liberally, with a smoking jorum of strong
rum-punch, that a friendly acquaintance was established between the two
on the spot.
"There's nothing in my place you ain't welcome to, James Harwood," he
said. "You're uncommonly like a favourite brother of mine that died
young of the measles; and I've taken a fancy to you on account of that
likeness. Come when you like, and as often as you like, and call for
what you like; and there shan't be no talk of scores between you and
me. I'm a bitter foe, and a firm friend. When I like a man there's
nothing I couldn't do to prove my liking; when I hate him--"
Here Mr. Milsom's speech died away into an ominous growl; and James
Harwood, who was rather a timid young man, felt as if drops of cold
water had been running down his back. But the rum-punch was very nice;
and he saw no reason why he should refuse Mr.
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