“Never mind about that,” cried Aunt Judy. “Tell us what Tawny Rachel said.”
“Oh, she called out that he must give it, if she was to have it, for she had nothing to pay for it with. I had a shilling in my pocket, and was just going to offer it, when I recollected he would most likely do her more harm than good. But the gentleman with the white beard walked in immediately, set his pack down on the table, and said, ‘Then, my good woman, I shall give it you;’ and out he brought a bottle, tasted it before he gave it to her, and promised her that it would cure her if she took it all.”
“My dear No. 3!” repeated mamma once more.
“Yes, I know she can’t be cured, mother, and I think she knows it too; but still she ‘took it very kind,’ as she called it, of him, and asked him if he would like to ‘rest him’ a bit by the fire, and the gentleman accepted the invitation; and there we all three sat, for really I quite enjoyed seeing him, and he began to warm his hands, remarking that the young gentleman—that was I, you know—looked very well. Oh, Judy, I very nearly said ‘Thank you, Dr. Faustus,’ but I only laughed and nodded, and really did hold my tongue; and then the two began to talk, and it was as good as any story you ever invented, Aunt Judy. Tawny Rachel was very inquisitive, and asked him:—
“‘You’ve come a long way, sir, I suppose?’
“‘Yes, ma’am; I’m a great traveller, and have been so a many years.’
“‘It’s a wonder you have not settled before now.’
“‘I might have settled, ma’am, a many times.’
“‘Ah, when folks once begin wandering, they can’t settle down. You were, maybe, brought up to it.’
“‘I was brought up to something a deal better than that, ma’am.’