hat he might the better mop his
brow and youthful, almost cherubic face. What time he did so, a pair of
bright little blue eyes were very busy with Mr. Caryll's carriage,
from which Leduc, Mr. Caryll's valet, was in the act of removing a
portmantle. His mobile mouth fell into lines of satisfaction.

Still mopping himself, he entered the inn, and, guided by the drone of
voices, sauntered into the bar. At sight of Mr. Caryll leaning there,
his little eyes beamed an instant, as do the eyes of one who espies a
friend, or--apter figure--the eyes of the hunter when they sight the
quarry.

He advanced to the bar, bowing to Mr. Caryll with an air almost
apologetic, and to the landlady with an air scarcely less so, as he
asked for a nipperkin of ale to wash the dust of the road from his
throat. The hostess called a drawer to serve him, and departed herself
upon the momentous business of Mr. Caryll's dinner.

"A warm day, sir," said the chubby man.

Mr. Caryll agreed with him politely, and finished his glass, the other
sipping meanwhile at his ale.

"A fine brew, sir," said he. "A prodigious fine brew! With all respect,
sir, your honor should try a whet of our English ale."

Mr. Caryll, setting down his glass, looked languidly at the man. "Why do
you exclude me, sir, from the nation of this beverage?" he inquired.

The chubby man's face expressed astonishment. "Ye're English, sir! Ecod!
I had thought ye French!"

"It is an honor, sir, that you should have thought me anything."

The other abased himself. "'Twas an unwarrantable presumption, Codso!
which I hope your honor'll pardon." Then he smiled again, his little
eyes twinkling humorously. "An ye would try the ale, I dare swear your
honor would forgive me. I know ale, ecod! I am a brewer myself. Green is
my name, sir--Tom Green--your very obedient servant, sir." And he drank
as if pledging that same service he professed.

Mr. Caryll observed him calmly and a thought indifferently. "Ye're
determined to honor me," said he. "I am your debtor for your reflections
upon whetting glasses; but ale, sir, is a beverage I don't affect, nor
shall while there are vines in France."

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Green rapturously. "'Tis a great country, France; is it
not, sir?"

"'Tis not the general opinion here at present. But I make no doubt that
it deserves your praise."

"And Paris, now," persisted Mr. Green. "They tell me 'tis a great city;
a marvel o' th' ages. There be those, ecod!