"Hey, you there! Have you fish-hooks and nets within?"

"Aye, sir, in plenty. Will it please you to enter?" And the boy made
room for the stranger to pass through the narrow doorway. The shop was
apparently empty, except for a middle-aged man who rose from his seat on
a high stool near the window, where he was busily engaged in polishing a
pair of razors. As he came forward, the fisherman addressed him:--

"Good day, friend. A frosty morning."

"But the wind will turn to east at sunset," said the other, with a quick
glance from under his heavy eyebrows.

"A good wind, then, for the Sturdy Beggar," was the reply, as the
fisherman clasped his hands behind his neck with a peculiar gesture.

"Then all's well," returned the shopkeeper, laying down his razors, and
motioning his customer to come farther inside. "Whom do you seek here,
sir?"

"Mynheer Wilhelm Hoffmeister, known commonly as 'Billy the fiddler.'"

"He is off on duty since last Tuesday, but must be here to-night to play
at a grand ball given at one of the Tory houses; there must be news, for
you are the third one who has asked for him since yesterday."

"News?" said the fisherman eagerly; "perhaps you have a billet for me?"

"And what may you be called?" asked the other cautiously.