"A day of wonders!" he exclaimed. "Providence must have led me in this direction." A sad and tender reminiscence brought the tears to his eyes. "The Silver Flagon! The dear, old Silver Flagon. And the proprietor's name is Rowe, an old man and a gentleman!"
"That 'a be--as wold a man as ye, 'a should say. A rare fine place 'tis."
"It looks it." The stranger's eyes glittered with joy.
"Too fine for the likes of----" ("we," he was about to say, but the sight of the stranger's money caused a correction)--"me. 'A can get rare fine cider in another place."
"Doubtless." The stranger could scarcely restrain his excitement. "But to come back to what we were speaking of just now"--(rattling the money in his hand)--"this Mr. Weston---- By the way, though, let us give him his full name; Mr. Richard Weston, of course."
"Ay, that be his name."
The labourer would have used the word "full," but that it stood in his mind for "foolish."
"I was asking--a well-to-do man, Mr. Weston?"
"Well-to-do!" exclaimed the labourer, thirstily. "They say he have no end o' money."
"Highly respected, no doubt?"