once lodged, and of whom he had often spoken to her with much gratitude
as having put him in the way of recovering herself, and having shown
him a peculiar trustful kindness on that occasion. But you will remember
also that I could not find this Merle; he had left the village, near
this very place, in which he had spent the greater part of his life--his
humble trade having been neglected in consequence of some strange
superstitious occupations in which, as he had grown older, he had become
more and more absorbed. He had fallen into poverty, his effects had been
sold off; he had gone away no one knew whither. Well, the ex-agent, who
had also been directed to this Merle by his employer, had, through his
correspondent, ascertained that the cobbler was living at Norwich, where
he passed under the name of the Wise Man, and where he was in perpetual
danger of being sent to the house of correction as an impostor, dealing
in astrology, crystal-seeing, and such silly or nefarious practices.
Very odd, indeed, and very melancholy, too," quoth the scholar, lifting
up his hands and eyes, "that a man so gifted as our poor friend should
ever have cultivated an acquaintance with a cobbler who deals in the
Black Art!"

"Sophy has talked to me much about that cobbler," said Lady Montfort,
with her sweet half-smile. "It was under his roof that she first saw
Lionel Haughton. But though the poor man may be an ignorant enthusiast,
he is certainly, by her account, too kind and simple-hearted to be a
designing impostor."

GEORGE.--"Possibly. But to go on with my story: A few weeks ago, an
elderly lame man, accompanied by a dog, who was evidently poor dear Sir
Isaac, lodged two days with Merle at Norwich. On hearing this, I myself
went yesterday to Norwich, saw and talked to Merle, and through this
man I hope, more easily, delicately, and expeditiously than by any
other means, to achieve our object. He evidently can assist us, and,
as evidently, Waife has not told him that he is flying from Sophy and
friends, but from enemies and persecutors. For Merle, who is impervious
to bribes, and who at first was churlish and rude, became softened as my
honest affection for the fugitive grew clear to him, and still more when
I told him how wretched Sophy was at her grandfather's disappearance,
and that she might fret herself into a decline. And we parted with this
promise on his side, that if I would bring down to him either Sophy
herself (which is out