These words drew upon me the attention of the whole four. The radical and his companion stared at me ferociously; the man in black gave me a peculiar glance from under his slouched hat; the simple-looking man in the labouring dress laughed.
“What are you laughing at, you fool?” said the radical, turning and looking at the other, who appeared to be afraid of him, “hold your noise; and a pretty fellow, you,” said he, looking at me, “to come here, and speak against the great American nation.”
“I speak against the great American nation?” said I: “I rather paid them a compliment.”
“By supposing they would put me in the stocks? Well, I call it abusing them, to suppose they would do any such thing. Stocks, indeed!—there are no stocks in all the land. Put me in the stocks? why, the President will come down to the quay, and ask me to dinner, as soon as he hears what I have said about the King and the Church.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” said I, “if you go to America, you will say of the President and country what now you say of the King and Church, and cry out for somebody to sent you back to England.”
The radical dashed his pipe to pieces against the table. “I tell you what, young fellow, you are a spy of the aristocracy, sent here to kick up a disturbance.”
“Kicking up a disturbance,” said I, “is rather inconsistent with the office of spy. If I were a spy, I should hold my head down, and say nothing.”
The man in black [{106}] partially raised his head, and gave me another peculiar glance.
“Well, if you ar’n’t sent to spy, you are sent to bully, to prevent people speaking, and to run down the great American nation; but you sha’n’t bully me. I say, down with the aristocracy, the beggarly aristocracy! Come, what have you to say to that?”
“Nothing,” said I.