In a moment after, however, Wilton's ears were saluted by the stranger's
voice, saying, "Give you good evening, young gentleman--it has been a
fine afternoon."

Now this might appear somewhat singular in the present day--when human
beings have adopted a particular sort of mysterious ordinance, by which
alone they can become thoroughly known and acquainted with each
other--and when no man, upon any pretence or consideration whatsoever,
dare speak to a fellow-creature, until some one known to both of them
has whispered some cabalistic words between them, which, in general,
neither of them hear distinctly. At the time I speak of, however,
acquaintance was much more easily made, so far, at least, as common
civility and the ordinary charities of life went. A man might speak to
another at that time, if any accidental circumstances threw them close
together, without any risk of being taken for a fool, a swindler, or a
brute; and there was, in short, a good-humoured frankness and simplicity
in those days, which formed, to say the truth, the best part about them;
for the good old times, as they are called, were certainly desperately
coarse, and a trifle more vicious than the present.

Such being the case then, Wilton Brown was not in the least surprised at
the address of the stranger, but turned, and replied civilly; and being,
indeed, somewhat dissatisfied with the companionship of his own
thoughts, he suffered his horse to jog on side by side with the beast of
the stranger, and entered into conversation with him willingly enough.
He found him an intelligent and clever man, with a tone and manner
superior, in many points, to his dress and equipage. He seemed to speak
with authority, and was conversant with the great world of London, with
the court, and the camp. He knew something also of France, and its
self-called great monarch. He spoke with a shrug of the shoulder and an