CHAPTER XVII
THE WORLD-IN-LAW
"Well," said Master Ambrose, as he laid down the volume, "the woman was clearly as innocent as you are. And I should very much like to know what bearing the case has upon the present crisis."
Master Nathaniel drew up his chair close to his friend's and said in a low voice, as if he feared an invisible listener, "Ambrose, do you remember how you startled Leer with your question as to whether the dead could bleed?"
"I'm not likely to forget it," said Master Ambrose, with an angry laugh. "That was all explained the night before last in the Fields of Grammary."
"Yes, but supposing he had been thinking of something else—not of fairy fruit. What if Endymion Leer and Christopher Pugwalker were one and the same?"
"Well, I don't see the slightest reason for thinking so. But even if they were—what good would it do us?"
"Because I have an instinct that hidden in that old case is a good honest hempen rope, too strong for all the gossamer threads of Fairie."
"You mean that we can get the rascal hanged? By the Harvest of Souls, you're an optimist, Nat. If ever a fellow died quietly in his bed from natural causes, it was that fellow Gibberty. But, for all that, there's no reason to lie down under the outrageous practical joke that was played off on you yesterday. By my Great-aunt's Rump, I thought Polydore and the rest of them had more sense than to be taken in by such tomfoolery. But the truth of it is that that villain Leer can make them believe what he chooses."