Marshal! He was a man who, to an exact knowledge of the duties of his
office, joined the power of discovering truth from the midst of
contradictory evidence, and the happy art of soothing or laughing the
angry passions into good-humour. It was a common saying in Hereford that
no one ever came out of Justice Marshal's house as angry as he went into
it.

Mr. Marshal had scarcely breakfasted when he was informed that Mr. Hill,
the verger, wanted to speak to him on business of the utmost importance.
Mr. Hill, the verger, was ushered in; and, with gloomy solemnity, took a
seat opposite to Mr. Marshal.

"Sad doings in Hereford, Mr. Marshal! Sad doings, sir."

"Sad doings? Why, I was told we had merry doings in Hereford. A ball
the night before last, as I heard."

"So much the worse, Mr. Marshal--so much the worse: as those think with
reason that see as far into things as I do."

"So much the better, Mr. Hill," said Mr. Marshal, laughing, "so much the
better: as those think with reason that see no farther into things than I
do."

"But, sir," said the verger, still more solemnly, "this is no laughing
matter, nor time for laughing, begging your pardon. Why, sir, the night
of that there diabolical ball our Hereford Cathedral, sir, would have
been blown up--blown up from the foundation, if it had not been for me,
sir!"

"Indeed, Mr. Verger! And pray how, and by whom, was the cathedral to be
blown up? and what was there diabolical in this ball?"

Here Mr. Hill let Mr. Marshal into the whole history of his early dislike
to O'Neill, and his shrewd suspicions of him the first moment he saw him
in Hereford: related in the most prolix manner all that the reader knows
already, and concluded by saying that, as he was now certain of his
facts, he was come to swear examinations against this villanous Irishman,
who, he hoped, would be speedily brought to justice, as he deserved.

"To justice he shall be brought, as he deserves," said Mr. Marshal; "but
before I write, and before you swear, will you have the goodness to
inform me how you have made yourself as certain, as you evidently are, of
what you call your facts?"

"Sir, that is a secret," replied our wise man, "which I shall trust to
you alone;" and he whispered into Mr. Marshal's ear that, his information
came from Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.

Mr. Marshal instantly burst into laughter; then composing himself, said:
"My good sir, I am really glad that y