"You were nigh to London three days ago."
"Nigh to London three days ago!" Paul laughed, then nodded across at a burly dalesman standing near, and said: "Geordie, just pinch the old man, and see if he's dreaming."
There was a general titter, followed by glances of amused inquiry. The peddler took off his hat, held his head aside, scratched it leisurely, glanced up again at the face of young Ritson, as if to satisfy himself finally as to his identity, and eventually muttered half aloud:
"Well, I'm fair maizelt—that's what I am!"
"Maizelt—why?"
"I could ha' sworn I saw you at a spot near London three days ago."
"Not been there these three years," said Paul.
"Didn't you wave your hand to me as we went by—me and Bessy?"
"Did I? Where?"
"Why, at the Hawk and Heron, in Hendon."