"Do not call me Weston," replied her companion, in an imploring tone; "I have abandoned that name long ago, as one casts off an old coat when it is worn threadbare. There was a hole or two in it also, it must be confessed; and I received a severe fright, which made me tremble so that it shook me out of my name."
"Why, how was that? how was that?" asked Mrs. Turner; "you are a man not easily alarmed."
"In general not," answered her companion, sinking his voice to a whisper; "but I'll tell you what occurred. One day at an inn, where I was lodging, I saw accidentally a young girl, an Italian, who had once been in my service."
"I remember her quite well," replied Mrs. Turner, "and thought you had parted with her to some nobleman."
"No, no, she parted from me," rejoined the charlatan, in the same low tone, "and took some secrets of mine with her. Seeing her in the inn, and thinking she was still with an old foolish knight, who had maltreated me and carried her off from me, I took occasion to pass through the kitchen as her dinner was preparing. I know not how it was, but by this time she was in the service of one of the highest ladies of the land. The broth that was intended for the maid, was taken by the mistress; and a fit of illness came on, which the doctors from Cambridge were fools enough to ascribe to poison. She recovered in the end, but I was in a great fright, for you know how scandalous the tongue of the world is; so, dropping the name of Weston, and giving my hair another hue, I attached myself to the Count de Taxis, and gave out that I had come to England with him."[[4]]
"And pray what may be your name now?" asked Mrs. Turner; "I must tutor my lips not to call you Weston, I suppose."
"The name I took," replied the man, "was Dr. Foramen, out of honour to a hole in my crucible, in which I once was fortunate enough to obtain a small quantity of the powder of projection. But the fools here have changed it at once into a vulgar English name, and call me Doctor Foreman."
"Odds life!" cried Mrs. Turner; "are you the Doctor Foreman skilled in magic and astrology, who lives just beyond the walls, by the Inns of Court?"
"The same, sweet lady, the same," replied Weston, with a low bow; "and a very pretty traffic I carry on, let me assure you."
"I'll better it--I'll better it," said Mrs. Turner; "but here we are at the boat."