I was quite taken aback: the more as several persons looked up from their books, and his immediate companion, a meagre dry-looking man in a snuff-coloured suit, fell to staring at me. "What do you mean?" I stammered.
"You know very well," the tradesman answered me roughly. "And had better be gone! And more, I tell you, if you want a hemp collar, my man, you are in the way to get one!"
"Clipped?" quoth the dry-looking man.
"New clipped and bright at the edges!" the bookseller answered. "Now go, my man, and be thankful I don't send for a constable."
At that I shrank away, two or three of the customers coming to the door to see me out, and watching which way I turned. This, I suppose--though I was then, and for a little time longer in doubt about him--was the reason why I could see nothing of my charitable friend, when I returned to the place where I had left him. I looked this way and that, but he was gone; and though, not knowing what else to do, and having still the guinea in my possession, I lingered about the mouth of the court for an hour or more, looking for him, he did not return.
At the end of that time the meagre dry man whom I had seen in the shop passed with a book under his arm; and seeing me, after a moment's hesitation stood and spoke to me. "Well, my friend?" said he, looking hard at me. "Are you waiting for the halter?"
I told him civilly, no; but that the gentleman who had given me the guinea to change had bidden me return to him there.
"And he is not here?" he said with a sneer.
"No," I said.
He stared at me, wondering at the simplicity of my answer; and then, "Well, you are either the biggest fool or the biggest knave within the bills!" he exclaimed. "Are you straight from Gotham?"