“Sar, I am a gentleman.”
“What profession are you of, sir?”
“Sar, a gentleman has no profession.”
“But how do you live, Monsieur Tagliabue?”
“As a gentleman always does, sar.”
“You mentioned Lord Scrope just now as your particular friend, I think?”
“Yes, sar, me very intimate with Lord Scrope; me spend three months at Scrope Castle with mi Lady Scrope; mi Lady Scrope very fond of Madame Tagliabue.”
“Very well, Monsieur Tagliabue; we must proceed with another case until Mr Turnbull’s bail arrives. Sit down for a little while, if you please.”
Another case was then heard, which lasted about half-an-hour; but previous to hearing it, the magistrate, who knew that Lord Scrope was in town, had despatched a runner with a note to his lordship, and the answer was now brought back. The magistrate read it, and smiled; went on with the other case, and when it was finished, said, “Now, M. Tagliabue, you have said that you were intimate with Lord Scrope.”
“Yes, sar, very intimate.”