n-assailing trucks, did he look round, consequentially, on the _qui
vive_, turning his one eye, now on Sophy, now on Sir Isaac, and griping
his bundle to his breast as if he suspected all his neighbours to be
Thugs, condottieri, and swellmob,--that in an instant fly-men, omnibus
drivers, cads, and porters marked him for their own. "Gatesboro' Arms,"
"Spread Eagle," "Royal Hotel," "Saracen's Head; very comfortable,
centre of High Street, opposite the Town Hall,"--were shouted, bawled,
whispered, or whined into his ear.

"Is there an honest porter?" asked the Comedian, piteously. An Irishman
presented himself. "And is it meself can serve your honour?"--"Take this
bundle, and walk on before me to the High Street."--"Could not I take
the bundle, Grandfather? The man will charge so much," said the prudent
Sophy. "Hush! you indeed!" said the Pere Noble, as if addressing an
exiled Altesse royale,--"you take a bundle--Miss--Chapman!"

They soon gained the High Street. Waife examined the fronts of the
various inns which they passed by with an eye accustomed to decipher the
physiognomy of hostelries. The Saracen's Head pleased him, though
its imposing size daunted Sophy. He arrested the steps of the porter,
"Follow me close," and stepped across the open threshold into the bar.
The landlady herself was there, portly and imposing, with an auburn
toupet, a silk gown, a cameo brooch, and an ample bosom.

"You have a private sitting-room, ma'am?" said the Comedian, lifting his
hat. There are so many ways of lifting a hat,-for instance, the way for
which Louis XIV. was so renowned. But the Comedian's way on the present
occasion rather resembled that of the late Duke of B--------, not quite
royal, but as near to royalty as becomes a subject. He added, recovering
his head,--"And on the first floor?" The landlady did not courtesy, but
she bowed, emerged from the bar, and set foot on the broad stairs; then,
looking back graciously, her eyes rested on Sir Isaac, who had stalked
forth in advance and with expansive nostrils sniffed. She hesitated.
"Your dog, sir! shall Boots take it round to the stables?"

"The stables, ma'am--the stables, my dear," turning to Sophy, with a
smile more ducal than the previous bow; "what would they say at home if
they heard that noble animal was consigned to-stables? Ma'am, my dog is
my companion, and as much accustomed to drawing-rooms as I am myself."
Still the landlady paused. The dog might be accustomed t