'Why, of course you would have to pay the piper,' said the man.

This was too much! _Pay_ the man that played upon me after I was made
into bagpipes! The idea was too frightful.

'I must look out for business, you know; and, by Jove! I shall never
have such a chance, if I live to the age of Methuselah.'

'Well, you shall not have it from me.'

'Then,' said the man, rising, 'you are more of a fool than I took you
for.'

'Sir!' said my uncle.

'No offence; no offence, I assure you. But it is provoking to find
people so blind--so wilfully blind--to their own interest. You may say
I have nothing to lose. Give me the boy, and I'll bring him up like my
own son; send him to school and college, too--all on the chance of
being repaid twice over by--'

I knew this was all a trick to get hold of my skin. The man said it on
his way to the door, his ape-face shining dim as he turned it a little
back in the direction of my uncle, who followed with the candle. I lost
the last part of the sentence in the terror which sent me bounding up
the stair in my usual four-footed fashion. I leaped into my bed,
shaking with cold and agony combined. But I had the satisfaction
presently of hearing the _thud_ of the horse's hoofs upon the sward,
dying away in the direction whence they had come. After that I soon
fell asleep.