g as I remain here."

"Your reverence shall be obeyed in all things," said the fellow, getting
up. Then walking away to his companions he cried, "Get up, boys, and
plase to know that his reverence Toban is not to be farther troubled by
being looked at or spoken to by any one of us as long as he remains upon
this dirty pier."

"Divil a bit farther trouble shall he have from us!" exclaimed many a
voice, as the rest of the party arose from their knees.

In half a minute they disposed themselves in much the same manner as that
in which they were when I first saw them--some flung themselves again to
sleep under the wall, some seated themselves with their backs against it,
and laughed and chatted, but without taking any notice of me; those who
sat and chatted took, or appeared to take, as little notice as those who
lay and slept of his reverence Father Toban.

CHAPTER XLII

Gage of Suffolk--Fellow in a Turban--Town of Holyhead--Father Boots--An
Expedition--Holy Head and Finisterrae--Gryffith ab Cynan--The Fairies'
Well.

Leaving the pier I turned up a street to the south, and was not long
before I arrived at a kind of market-place, where were carts and stalls,
and on the ground, on cloths, apples and plums, and abundance of
greengages,--the latter, when good, decidedly the finest fruit in the
world, a fruit, for the introduction of which into England, the English
have to thank one Gage of an ancient Suffolk family, at present extinct,
after whose name the fruit derives the latter part of its appellation.
Strolling about the market-place I came in contact with a fellow dressed
in a turban and dirty blue linen robes and trowsers. He bore a bundle of
papers in his hand, one of which he offered to me. I asked him who he
was.

"Arap," he replied.

He had a dark, cunning, roguish countenance, with small eyes, and had all
the appearance of a Jew. I spoke to him in what Arabic I could command
on a sudden, and he jabbered to me in a corrupt dialect, giving me a
confused account of a captivity which he had undergone amidst savage
Mahometans. At last I asked him what religion he was of.

"The Christian," he replied.

"Have you ever been of the Jewish?" said I.

He returned no answer save by a grin.

I took the paper, gave him a penny, and then walked away. The paper
contained an account in English of how the bearer, the son of Christian
parents, had been carried into captivity by two Mahometan merchants, a