the other; and he tried to drive his
donkey directly over Raymond. But Raymond caught the bridle, and at
the same time put on his cap. Everything depended on what the
donkey-rider did next.

Greatly to Raymond's gratification--though it half-frightened him
too--the fellow immediately slipped backwards over his donkey's tail;
and, having reached the ground, made an awkward but obsequious salute.

'Beg your Worship's pardon humbly!' said he, ducking his head and
scraping his foot at every few words. 'Didn't know your Worship at
first. Hope your Worship will pardon a poor lad whose intellects are
not quite right.'

Indeed, the fellow appeared only half-witted. He had round goggle
eyes, a silly mouth, and scarcely any forehead at all.

As for Raymond he felt more like hugging the fellow than merely
pardoning him; but he remembered that he must keep up his dignity.
Moreover, he now perceived that the wearing of the cap made almost as
much change in his own feelings as in other people's opinion of him.

'I will overlook your mistake,' he said condescendingly; 'and in proof
of it I will make use of your donkey as far as the city; for I am
weary, and there is not much time to lose.'

'Indeed, then, your Worship, he's not fit for a gentleman like your
Worship to be riding on,' replied the fellow, ducking again; 'but, if
your Worship doesn't mind, I should be proud to see your Worship
sitting on him; and he'll carry your Worship well.'

Raymond mounted accordingly, and the party proceeded on their way, the
fellow trotting behind, and occasionally persuading the donkey with
the oaken cudgel he carried. Meanwhile Raymond asked him some
questions.

'You are going to the Seven Brethren?'

'Yes, your Worship. There are good things there, as your Worship
knows.'

'How should I know?'

'La! as if I couldn't see that your Worship was one of them himself!'

'It must be the same Seven Brethren of which the dwarf spoke,' thought
Raymond; and he said aloud, 'They meet to-night at five o'clock, I
think?'

'Right, your Worship. And your Worship may trust me. "Yellow-cap" is
the password, "seven" the number, and "five" the time. Isn't it, your
Worship?'

Raymond felt much obliged by this information, though he was careful
not to say so. When they came to the city gates he slipped off the
donkey at a moment when the other was not looking, at the same time
removing his cap; when he had the pleasure of seeing the fellow turn
t