This particular Master-Attendant was reported to consider it miserably
inadequate, on the ground that it did not include the power of life
and death. This was a jocular exaggeration. Captain Eliott was fairly
satisfied with his position, and nursed no inconsiderable sense of such
power as he had. His conceited and tyrannical disposition did not allow
him to let it dwindle in his hands for want of use. The uproarious,
choleric frankness of his comments on people's character and conduct
caused him to be feared at bottom; though in conversation many pretended
not to mind him in the least, others would only smile sourly at the
mention of his name, and there were even some who dared to pronounce him
"a meddlesome old ruffian." But for almost all of them one of Captain
Eliott's outbreaks was nearly as distasteful to face as a chance of
annihilation.


V


As soon as he had come up quite close he said, mouthing in a growl--

"What's this I hear, Whalley? Is it true you're selling the Fair Maid?"

Captain Whalley, looking away, said the thing was done--money had been
paid that morning; and the other expressed at once his approbation of
such an extremely sensible proceeding. He had got out of his trap to
stretch his legs, he explained, on his way home to dinner. Sir Frederick
looked well at the end of his time. Didn't he?

Captain Whalley could not say; had only noticed the carriage going past.