scholar. There, yonder," said he, "you may just catch a glimpse of the
tall what-d'ye-call-it he has built on the top of his house that he may
get nearer to the stars."

"The scholar, I suppose," observed the stranger, "is not very rich.
Learning does not clothe men nowadays, eh, corporal?"

"And why should it?" asked Bunting. "Zounds! can it teach a man how to
defend his country? Old England wants soldiers. But the man's well
enough, I must own--civil, modest----"

"And by no means a beggar," added Peter. "He gave as much to the poor
last winter as the squire himself. But if he were as rich as Lord----he
could not be more respected. The greatest folk in the country come in
their carriages-and-four to see him. There is not a man more talked on
in the whole county than Eugene Aram----"

"What!" cried the traveller, his countenance changing as he sprang from
his seat. "What! Aram! Did you say _Aram_? Great heavens! How strange!"

"What! You know him?" gasped the astonished landlord.

Instead of replying, the stranger muttered inaudible words between his
teeth. Now he strode two steps forward, clenching his hands. Now smiled
grimly. Then he threw himself upon his seat, still in silence.

"Rum tantrums!" ejaculated the corporal. "What the devil! Did the man
eat your grandmother?"

The stranger lifted his head, and addressing Peter, said, with a forced