Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. Stanley, at the door. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it.
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