"What mean you by that, Jew dog!" said the boy fiercely, laying his hand on his sword.
"Nothing, fair gentleman, except it be that thine, though well preserved, would fain take up the business of thy white teeth."
"Become biting," replied Robin, bowing.
"Ah, Morrison! the Jew is too much for ye," said another youth, who was just roused from a half slumber in a high-backed chair.—"Where got ye yer wit?"
"Where you did not get yours, under favour," was Robin's ready reply.
"And where was that?"
"From nature; too common a person for so gay a young gentleman to be beholden to," he retorted, bowing again with even a greater show of humility than before.
At this reply, Sir John Berkstead, formerly a goldsmith in the Strand, but gradually raised to the dignity of chief steward of Oliver's household, approached Robin with his usual shuffling gait, and said,—
"Hey! young gentlemen—hey! young gentlemen, what foolish jesting is this? what mean ye? It is his Highness's pleasure to receive the master, and what for do ye treat the man with indignity? My worthy Samuel," he looked closer—"but it is not Samuel," he continued, peering curiously at Robin, "it is not Samuel. What ho! Gracious Meanwell! did this man enter with the learned Manasseh Ben Israel?"