"But, master, where, think you, shall it be found?" answered Harvey: "you might as well dissolve this society, as think of making us refund what is already scattered in every corner of Gloucester."
"Dissolve this society! impudent knave!" retorted the foreman: "I should like to know what new profession ye are fit for: how could ye live but for me? Think ye the sheriff would expose himself by communing with such untaught knaves? No more sulkiness, or I take you at your word. Give me another swoop of the goblet." It was handed to him, and, after ingulphing a long draught, he slowly drew breath—his eyes were observed to brighten with some new idea, and, in a moment after, he started from his seat, exclaiming, in a burst of joy:
"By the green wax! I've got him!—I've got him at last—I shall be back in half an hour!" He then darted out of the room, leaving his confederates conjecturing who the welcome auxiliary was to be that should fill the void at the oak table.
It was a full hour, however, before the indefatigable purveyor re-appeared, accompanied by a dark, sun-burnt looking young man, attired in the garb of a dusty-foot or foreign pedlar. He appeared to be one of an inferior description of Galley-men, or Genoese merchants, (as described by Stowe,) who traded to England, and trafficked with a coin called galley-half-pence. They chiefly resided at a wharf named Galley Key, in Thames-street, and travelled as itinerant hawkers through the kingdom. His countenance, however, was not that of a Genoese—it had more the appearance of the English cast of features, though, judging from its dark and seaman-like hue, it was many years since he left his native country.
"Come, my friends, be not cast down! Black Jack and his eleven are themselves again!" cried the foreman, exultingly. "Here, Harvey, fill up a goblet for our new friend. Poor Jack's chair is occupied during the assize; see ye make much of his successor."
"Is he not engaged as a fixture?" asked Harvey, with some disappointment.
"No, no, Harvey; his feet are not for the narrow limits of Gloucester. He is a bird of passage, that makes its periodical migrations, and cannot be called peculiar to one country more than another: in short, he is a kind of privileged outlaw."
"Aye, aye, master; he breathes the various atmospheres of Christendom, and yet I'll swear he is a dog of a heathen, notwithstanding, ha! ha! ha! No offence," he added, addressing the galleyman; "jests are privileged in this free society."
"Christian men," returned the dusty-foot, good-humouredly, "would be suffocated in this poisonous air you breathe, and would die, like the heathen, without benefit of clergy."
"That's right, galleyman—you have hit him there. That knave's skull is a perfect book of entries, and can furnish precedents for every crime, from high treason to a simple assault. He'll crack jokes to the last. But, by the green wax! we must think of a proper description for him, to insert in the pannel. Let me see—aye, I have it. A man from Worcester has lately settled at Deerhurst; his name is James Mills, a substantial man. Here, Harvey," as he took from his pocket a slip of parchment, and wrote the necessary particulars, and sealed it carefully, "take this to Lawyer Manlove. We must now see whether Beauchamp's clothes will suit our friend here."