"Look alive, old lady; bring a light! This old band-box is as dark as pitch."
Thus urged, the old lady disappeared, presently reappearing with a little table-lamp in her trembling hands.
"Put it somewhere out of reach--if anything is out of reach in this dog-hole of a place. I shouldn't be surprised if you had a little bonfire with the next lamp that's upset."
Mrs. Huffman placed it on a shelf in the extreme corner of the shop, from which post of vantage it did not light the scene quite so brilliantly as it might have done. Mr. Stephen and the boy, relaxing a moment from the extreme vigour of discussion, availed themselves of the opportunity to see what sort of person the stranger might chance to be.
He was a man of gigantic stature, probably considerably over six feet high, but so broad in proportion that he seemed shorter than he actually was. A long waterproof, from which the rain was trickling in little streams, reached to his feet; the hood was drawn over his head, and under its shadow was seen a face which was excellently adapted to the enormous frame. A huge black beard streamed over the stranger's breast, and a pair of large black eyes looked out from overhanging brows. He was the first to break the silence.
"Well, what is this little argument?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he continued, addressing Mr. Huffham, "You're rather a large size, don't you think, for that sized boy?"
"Who are you? and what do you want? If there's anything you want to buy, perhaps you'll buy it, and take yourself outside."
The stranger put his hand up to his beard, and began pulling it.
"There's nothing I want to buy, not just now." He looked at Bailey. "What's he laying it on for?"
"Nothing."