Encouraged by this affable reception from the highwayman, though a little
embarrassed by Ned's allusion to former conduct on his part, which he
felt was just, Dummie grinned, pushed a stool near Ned, sat himself down,
and carefully avoiding any immediate answer to Ned's complaints,
rejoined,--

"Do you know, Meester Pepper, you struck I all of a heap? I could not
have s'posed as how you'd condescend nowadays to come to the Mug, vhere I
never seed you but once afore. Lord love ye, they says as 'ow you go to
all the fine places in ruffles, with a pair of silver pops in your
vaistcoat pocket! Vy, the boys hereabout say that you and Meester
Tomlinson, and this 'ere poor devil in quod, vere the finest gemmen in
town; and, Lord, for to think of your ciwility to a pitiful ragmerchant,
like I!"

"Ah!" said Ned, gravely, "there are sad principles afloat now. They want
to do away with all distinctions in ranks,--to make a duke no better than
his valet, and a gentleman highwayman class with a filcher of fogles.'
But, damme, if I don't think misfortune levels us all quite enough; and
misfortune brings me here, little Dummie."

"Ah! you vants to keep out of the vay of the bulkies!" "Right. Since
poor Lovett was laid by the heels, which I must say was the fault of his
own deuced gentlemanlike behaviour to me and Augustus (you've heard of
Guz, you say), the knot of us seems quite broken. One's own friends look
inclined to play one false; and really, the queer cuffins hover so
sharply upon us that I thought it safe to duck for a time. So I have
taken a lodging in a cellar, and I intend for the next three months to
board at the Mug. I have heard that I may be sure of lying snug here.
Dummie, your health! Give us the baccy."