a miracle of fine
things."

In a few minutes he was exhibiting them to Katherine, and she was too
much interested in the wares to notice their merchant particularly.

Indeed, he had one of those faces which reveal nothing; a face flat,
hard, secret as a wall, wrinkled as an old banner. He was a hale,
thick-set man, dressed in breeches of corduroy, and a sleeved waistcoat
down to his knees of the same material. His fur cap was on the carpet
beside his pack; and he had a fluent tongue in praise of his wares, as
he hung his silks over Lettice's outstretched arm, or arranged the
scarfs across her shoulders.

There was a slow but mutually satisfactory exchange of goods and money;
and then the pedler began to repack his treasures, and Lettice to carry
away the pretty trifles and the piece of satin her mistress had bought.
Then, also, he found time to talk, to take out the last newspapers, and
to describe the popular dissatisfaction at the stupid tyranny of the
Government toward the Colonies. For either from information, or by some
process rapid as instinct, he understood to which side Katherine's
sympathies went.

"Here be the 'Flying Postman,' madam, with the great speech of Mr. Burke
in it about the port of Boston; but it won't do a mossel o' good, madam,
though he do tell 'em to keep their hands out o' the Americans'
pockets."

"The port of Boston?"

"See you, madam, they are a-going to shut the port o' Boston, and make
Salem the place of entry; that's to punish the Bostonians; and Mr.
Burke, he says, 'The House has been told that Salem is only seventeen
miles from Boston but justice is not an idea of geography, and the
Americans are condemned without being heard. Yet the universal custom,
on any alteration of charters, is to hear the parties at the bar of the
House. Now, the question is, Are the Americans to be heard, or not,
before the charter is broken for our convenience?... The Boston bill is
a diabolical bill.'"

He read aloud this bit of Mr. Burke's fiery eloquence, in a high,
droning voice, and would, according to his custom, have continued the
entertainment; but Katherine, preferring to use her own intelligence,
borrowed the paper and was about to leave the room with it, when he
suddenly remembered a scarf of great beauty which he had not shown.

"I bought it for my Lady Suffolk," he said; "but Lord Suffolk died
sudden, and black my lady had to wear. It's forrin, madam; and here it
is--the very colour