say,
had the outrageous audacity to ask my opinion on this point, and then
when I gave it, to rise and say that it was a fine morning, and so
strut out, without another word. A villain, sir! the man who consults
a lawyer without the preparatory retainer, is a wretch too deep-dyed
to reform!"

Having thus disposed of Jinks, Mr. Rushton snorted.

"I don't like him," Verty said, "he does not seem to be sincere, and I
think he is not a gentleman. But, I forget, sir; you asked me if there
was any news. I _did_ hear some people talking at the corners of the
street as I passed.

"About what?"

"The turn out of the Dutch and Irish people the day after tomorrow,
sir."

"Hum!" growled Mr. Rushton, "we'll see about that! The authorities of
Winchester are performing their duty after a pretty fashion, truly--to
permit these villainous plots to be hatched tinder their very noses.
What did you hear, sir?"

"They were whispering almost, sir, and if I had'nt been a hunter I
could'nt have heard. They were saying that there would be knives as
well as shillalies," said Verty.

"Hum! indeed! This must be looked to! Will we! The wretches. We are in
a fine way when the public peace is to be sacrificed to the whim of
some outlandish wretches."

"Anan?" said Verty.

"Sir?" asked Mr. Rushton.

"I do not know exactly what _outlandish_ means," Verty replied, with a
smile.

A grim smile came to the lips of the lawyer also.

"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some
people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish."

"Me!" said Verty.

"Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?"

"My clothes, sir--from the tailor's?"

"Yes, sir."

Verty shook his head.

"I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an
Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me."

Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence.

"You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You
came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am
permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin,
which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have
labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched
life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces."

"Don't you like law, sir?"

"No--I hate it."

"Why, sir?"

"'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying
questions! I