of horses. Not knowing how long he had slept, and imagining that the
vehicle he had awaited was at the door, he ran out. It was a coach
coming from London, and the driver was joking with a pretty barmaid who,
in rather short petticoats, was fielding up to him the customary glass.
The man, after satisfying himself that his time was not yet come, was
turning back to the fire, when a head popped itself out of the window,
and a voice cried, "Stars and garters! Will--so that's you!" At the
sound of the voice the man halted abruptly, turned very pale, and his
limbs trembled. The inside passenger opened the door, jumped out with a
little carpet-bag in his hand, took forth a long leathern purse from
which he ostentatiously selected the coins that paid his fare and
satisfied the coachman, and then, passing his arm through that of the
acquaintance he had discovered, led him back into the house.

"Will--Will," he whispered, "you have been to the Mortons. Never moind--
let's hear all. Jenny or Dolly, or whatever your sweet praetty name is--
a private room and a pint of brandy, my dear. Hot water and lots of the
grocery. That's right."

And as soon as the pair found themselves, with the brandy before them, in
a small parlour with a good fire, the last comer went to the door, shut
it cautiously, flung his bag under the table, took off his gloves, spread
himself wider and wider before the fire, until he had entirely excluded
every ray from his friend, and then suddenly turning so that the back
might enjoy what the front had gained, he exclaimed.

"Damme, Will, you're a praetty sort of a broather to give me the slip in
that way. But in this world every man for his-self!"

"I tell you," said William, with something like decision in his voice,