it struck a secret awe into our wise man's
soul; and, forgetting Hereford Cathedral, and oak bark, and Limerick
gloves, he stood for some seconds speechless. During this time, the
queen very dexterously disencumbered his pocket of all superfluous
articles. When he recovered his recollection, he put with great
solemnity the following queries to the king of the gipsies, and received
the following answers:--

"Do you know a dangerous Irishman of the name of O'Neill, who has come,
for purposes best known to himself, to settle at Hereford?"

"Yes, we know him well."

"Indeed! And what do you know of him?"

"That he is a dangerous Irishman."

"Right! And it was he, was it not, that pulled down, or caused to be
pulled down, my rick of oak bark?"

"It was."

"And who was it that made away with my dog Jowler, that used to guard the
tan-yard?"

"It was the person that you suspect."

"And was it the person whom I suspect that made the hole under the
foundation of our cathedral?"

"The same, and no other."

"And for what purpose did he make that hole?"

"For a purpose that must not be named," replied the king of the gipsies,
nodding his head in a mysterious manner.

"But it may be named to me," cried the verger, "for I have found it out,
and I am one of the vergers; and is it not fit that a plot to blow up the
Hereford Cathedral should be known _to_ me, and _through_ me?"

"Now, take my word,
Wise men of Hereford,
None in safety may be,
Till the bad man doth flee."

These oracular verses, pronounced by Bampfylde with all the enthusiasm of
one who was inspired, had the desired effect upon our wise man; and he
left the presence of the king of the gipsies with a prodigiously high
opinion of his majesty's judgment and of his own, fully resolved to
impart, the next morning, to the mayor of Hereford his important
discoveries.

Now it happened that, during the time Mr. Hill was putting the foregoing
queries to Bampfylde the Second, there came to the door or entrance of
the audience chamber an Irish haymaker who wanted to consult the cunning
man about a little leathern purse which he had lost whilst he was making
hay in a field near Hereford. This haymaker was the same person who, as
we have related, spoke so advantageously of our hero O'Neill to the widow
Smith. As this man, whose name was Paddy M'Cormack, stood at the
entrance of the gipsies' hut, his attention was caught by the name of
O'Neill;