"I'm a sell," said The Big One, smiling modestly.
"A cell, indeed! But, I say, where did you learn that trick?"
"Up in Thibet."
"You're an adept, are you?"
"I am," said the loafer.
Mathias crossed himself devoutly.
"I say, don't you want to accompany me in my wanderings, in a sans façon way?"
"And take pot-luck with you?" said the adept, with a wink.
Mathias took the hint. He jingled the few dollars he had in his pocket, counted the six gold ducats his mamma had given him, and reckoned the enormous amount of food his new friend might consume. On the other hand, he bethought himself how useful a man who could swallow a whole regiment might be in case of an insurrection; so he shrugged his shoulders, and muttered to himself:
"There'll be a row at the next meeting of the Witena-gemote, when my debts 'll have to be paid; but if they want me to keep up appearances, they must fork out the tin." Thereupon, turning to The Big One, he added, magnificently: "It's a bargain."