e said:

"You were nigh to London three days ago."

"Nigh to London three days ago!" Paul laughed, then nodded across at a
burly dalesman standing near, and said: "Geordie, just pinch the old
man, and see if he's dreaming."

There was a general titter, followed by glances of amused inquiry. The
peddler took off his hat, held his head aside, scratched it leisurely,
glanced up again at the face of young Ritson, as if to satisfy himself
finally as to his identity, and eventually muttered half aloud:

"Well, I'm fair maizelt--that's what I am!"

"Maizelt--why?"

"I could ha' sworn I saw you at a spot near London three days ago."

"Not been there these three years," said Paul.

"Didn't you wave your hand to me as we went by--me and Bessy?"

"Did I? Where?"

"Why, at the Hawk and Heron, in Hendon."

"Never saw the place in my life."

"Sure of that?"

"Sure."

The grave old head dropped once more, and the pony's head was held down
to the withered hand that scratched and caressed it. Then the first idea
of a possible reason on Paul's part for keeping his movements secret
suggested itself afresh to Gubblum. He glanced soberly around, caught
the eye of the young dalesman furtively, and winked again. Paul laughed
outright, nodded his head good-humoredly, and rather ostentatiously
winked in response. The company that had gathered about them caught the
humor of the situation, and tittered audibly enough to provoke the
peddler's wrath.

"But I say you have seen it," shouted Gubblum in emphatic tones.

At that moment a slim young man walked slowly past the group. He was
well dressed, and carried himself with ease and some dignity, albeit
with an air of listlessness--a weary and dragging gait, due in part to a
slight infirmity of one foot. When some of the dalesmen bowed to him his
smile lacked warmth. He was Hugh Ritson, the younger brother of Paul.

Gubblum's manner gathered emphasis. "You were standing on the step of
the Hawk and Heron," said he, "and I waved my hand and shouted 'A canny
morning to you, Master Paul'--ey, that I did!"

"You don't say so!" said Paul, with mock solemnity. His brother had
caught the peddler's words, and stopped.

"But I do say so," said Gubblum, with many shakes of his big head. Let
any facetious young gentleman who supposed that it was possible to make
sport of him, understand once for all that it might be as well to throw
a stone into his own garden.

"Why, Gubblum," said Pau