'I also am in a hurry to get to London,' said Raymond politely. 'Couldn't you give me a ride there?'
'Mind your eye, numskull!' cried the other; and he tried to drive his donkey directly over Raymond. But Raymond caught the bridle, and at the same time put on his cap. Everything depended on what the donkey-rider did next.
Greatly to Raymond's gratification—though it half-frightened him too—the fellow immediately slipped backwards over his donkey's tail; and, having reached the ground, made an awkward but obsequious salute.
'Beg your Worship's pardon humbly!' said he, ducking his head and scraping his foot at every few words. 'Didn't know your Worship at first. Hope your Worship will pardon a poor lad whose intellects are not quite right.'
Indeed, the fellow appeared only half-witted. He had round goggle eyes, a silly mouth, and scarcely any forehead at all.
As for Raymond he felt more like hugging the fellow than merely pardoning him; but he remembered that he must keep up his dignity. Moreover, he now perceived that the wearing of the cap made almost as much change in his own feelings as in other people's opinion of him.
'I will overlook your mistake,' he said condescendingly; 'and in proof of it I will make use of your donkey as far as the city; for I am weary, and there is not much time to lose.'
'Indeed, then, your Worship, he's not fit for a gentleman like your Worship to be riding on,' replied the fellow, ducking again; 'but, if your Worship doesn't mind, I should be proud to see your Worship sitting on him; and he'll carry your Worship well.'
Raymond mounted accordingly, and the party proceeded on their way, the fellow trotting behind, and occasionally persuading the donkey with the oaken cudgel he carried. Meanwhile Raymond asked him some questions.
'You are going to the Seven Brethren?'