have seen him!--and yesterday too; and a great comfort it was to me too!"
"You saw Waife yesterday--where?"
"At Ouzelford, which I and the Faithful left this morning."
"And what was he doing?" said Losely, with well-simulated indifference. "Begging, breaking stones, or what?"
"No," said Rugge, dejectedly; "I can't say it was what, in farcical composition, I should call such nuts to me as that, sir. Still, he was in a low way--seemed a pedlar or a hawker, selling out of a pannier on the Rialto--I mean the Cornmarket, sir--not even a hag by his side, only a great dog--French. A British dog would have scorned such fellowship. And he did not look merry as he used to do when in my troop. Did he, Hag?"
"His conscience smites him," said the Hag, solemnly.
"Did you speak to him?"
"Why, no. I should have liked it, but we could not at that moment, seeing that we were not in our usual state of independence. This faithful creature was being led before the magistrates, and I too--charge of cheating a cook-maid, to whom the Hag had only said, 'that if the cards spoke true, she would ride in her carriage.' The charge broke down; but we were placed for the night in the Cells of the Inquisition, remanded, and this morning banished from the city, and are now on our way to--any other city;--eh, Hag?"
"And the old man was not with the Phenomenon? What has become of her, then?"
"Perhaps she may be with him at his house, if he has one; only, she was not with him on the Rialto or Cornmarket. She was with him two years ago, I know; and he and she were better off then than he is now, I suspect. And that is why it did me good, sir, to see him a pedlar--a common pedlar--fallen into the sere, like the man he abandoned!"
"Humph--where were they two years ago?"
"At a village not far from Humberston. He had a pretty house, sir, and sold baskets; and the girl was there too, favoured by a great lady--a Marchioness, sir! Gods!"
"Marchioness?--near Humberston? The Marchioness of Montfort, I suppose?"
