the wood by Market Bosworth, lingered on
my palate, _amari aliquid_, like an after-taste, but was not able--I say
it with shame--entirely to dispel my self-complacency. After all, in
this world every dog hangs by its own tail. I was a free adventurer, who
had just brought to a successful end--or, at least, within view of
it--an adventure very difficult and alarming; and I looked across at Mr.
Dudgeon, as the port rose to his cheeks, and a smile, that was
semi-confidential and a trifle foolish, began to play upon his leathery
features, not only with composure, but with a suspicion of kindness. The
rascal had been brave, a quality for which I would value the devil; and
if he had been pertinacious in the beginning, he had more than made up
for it before the end.

"And now, Dudgeon, to explain," I began. "I know your master, he knows
me, and he knows and approves of my errand. So much I may tell you, that
I am on my way to Amersham Place."

"Oho!" quoth Dudgeon, "I begin to see."

"I am heartily glad of it," said I, passing the bottle, "because that is
about all I can tell you. You must take my word for the remainder.
Either believe me or don't. If you don't, let's take a chaise; you can
carry me to-morrow to High Holborn, and confront me with Mr. Romaine;
the result of which will be to set your mind at rest--and to make the
holiest disorder in your master's plans. If I judge you aright (for I
find you a shrewd fellow), this will not be at all to your mind. You
know what a subordinate gets by officiousness; if I can trust my
memory, old Romaine has not at all the face that I should care to see in
anger; and I venture to predict surprising results upon your weekly
salary--if you are paid by the week, that is. In short, let me go free,
and 'tis an end of the matter; take me to London, and 'tis only a
beginning--and, by my opinion, a beginning of troubles. You can take
your choice."

"And that is soon taken," said he. "Go to Amersham to-morrow, or go to
the devil if you prefer--I wash my hands of you and the whole
transaction. No, you don't find me putting my head in between Romaine
and a client! A good man of business, sir, but hard as millstone grit. I
might get the sack, and I shouldn't wonder! But, it's a pity, too," he
added, and sighed, shook his head, and took his glass off sadly.

"That reminds me," said I. "I have a great curiosity, and you can
satisfy it. Why were you so forward to meddle with poor Mr. Dubois? W