“It is not right, from people of your sort,” said Constantine, “to pass your jokes upon an honest man, who reposes confidence in you.”
“No! no!” replied the other, “there is no joke in it; it is my serious intention. You will find in me a sturdy, active servant; and, as long as I live with you, not a single spirit or spectre will venture to shew himself on the “Field of Terror,” so that you may admit whole herds of cattle to brouze upon it.”
“I should like the thing well enough,” rejoined Constantine, “if I were but sure that you would keep your word; and above all, that I were doing right in making the engagement.”
“That must be your own affair,” said the stranger; “but I have never broken my word since these Ogre mountains have stood, and a mere creature of evil and malice I certainly am not. A little merry and wild and mischievous sometimes I own—but that is all!”
“Why I almost believe,” said Constantine, “that you are the celebrated Number-nip.”
“Harkee!” cried the stranger, with a frown,
