A chill ran over William Hill's back. It's just the cold, he told himself as he pulled his jacket closer to him. But he knew it wasn't the cold. He knew that this moment would come some day; he just thought it would be sooner. He was in his 30's but still unmarried. William had spent his life perfecting his skills. He didn't have time for girls. The life of a ferryman wasn't easy. He had spent most of his life taking people across the river Thymes. It was hard work, but an adequate source of money. His dad had always told him that a rich person is a man who has the poor to serve him. That's what William would always be, a poor man serving the rich. William would wake up in the morning, take the rich to their destination across the river, and go to bed again late in the evening. Sometimes when William had received a bit extra from a generous customer, he would head for the pub around the corner and spent his freshly earned money on beer. His life was never interesting. Then Ann came along.
William knocked on the door. The wood of the door felt cold and hard against his fingers. There was a brief moment of silence, which seemed to last forever. William could hear his own breathing quicken as the moments past. Finally he heard a voice on the other end; a low voice with a power in it that made William shudder again.
"Come in," the voice ordered from the other room. William grabbed the door knob and slowly turned it.
"William, it be you. Come in, come in. Why have you given me the pleasure of your visit?" Though the voice was intended to be sweet, William could not help think that there was more to the voice than just kindness. William couldn't resist glancing at the old man. His face was wrinkled by time, so was the rest of his body. Though he couldn't be older than 50, his physical appearance proved otherwise. His eyes though had a surprising blaze in them, an immortal fire.
"What are you here for," the old man asked again. William awoke from his momentary trance and brought his attentions back to the situation.
"I've come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage," William said. He thought he had sounded assured but not overconfident. He could feel his heart beat quicken again.
The old man looked William in the eyes but turned away. This isn't a good sign, William thought.
"Son, you're a good lad but…" the old man finally said.
"But what?" William demanded almost immediately. Though he wanted to marry Anny above all, he couldn't help fearing Mr. Heathfax's response to the question.
"But you haven't got enough money," Mr. Heathfax finally said.
"Money?"
"I'm an aging man, William. I have had to sell most of my property. I need an assurance of money for my future."
"I have enough money to support Ann, me, and even you."
"But not enough.
"Don't you give a damn about your daughters happiness?" William could feel his voice start to quiver. He hadn't expected this to happen. After all, it wasn't like Ann was of noble birth where marriage was the only thing that counted for a girl. William was astounded by the rudeness of a poor merchant. How dare he demand these things? He was in no position to argue with anyone. Any money he could get should be accepted graciously.
"I know that you love her," Mr. Heathfax continued. "That's not the problem."
"No, the problem is that you are just a wealth thirsty old man." William couldn't contain his anger any longer. The brutality of this man was angering him in a way that he hadn't known before. Normally, he could put up with a whole bunch of things, but Mr. Heathfax had crossed the line.