Mr. Jellyband's international opinions. One of them now, with a quiet,
sarcastic smile still lurking round the corners of his mobile mouth,
turned towards the centre of the room where Mr. Jellyband was standing.

"You seem to think, mine honest friend," he said quietly, "that these
Frenchmen,--spies I think you called them--are mighty clever fellows
to have made mincemeat so to speak of your friend Mr. Peppercorn's
opinions. How did they accomplish that now, think you?"

"Lud! sir, I suppose they talked 'im over. Those Frenchies, I've 'eard
it said, 'ave got the gift of gab--and Mr. 'Empseed 'ere will tell you
'ow it is that they just twist some people round their little finger
like."

"Indeed, and is that so, Mr. Hempseed?" inquired the stranger politely.

"Nay, sir!" replied Mr. Hempseed, much irritated, "I dunno as I can give
you the information you require."

"Faith, then," said the stranger, "let us hope, my worthy host, that
these clever spies will not succeed in upsetting your extremely loyal
opinions."

But this was too much for Mr. Jellyband's pleasant equanimity. He burst
into an uproarious fit of laughter, which was soon echoed by those who
happened to be in his debt.

"Hahaha! hohoho! hehehe!" He laughed in every key, did my worthy host,
and laughed until his sided ached, and his eyes streamed. "At me!
hark at that! Did ye 'ear 'im say that they'd be upsettin' my