It one could really be a spectator, a mere spectator, of what is
passing in the world around us, without taking part in the events, or
sharing in the passions and the actual performance on the stage; if we
could sit ourselves down, as it were, in a private box of the world's
great theatre, and quietly look on at the piece which is playing, no
more moved than is absolutely implied by sympathy with our
fellow-creatures, what a curious, what an amusing, what an interesting
spectacle would life present! But we never, in this fashion, see the
whole of the play. Sooner or later we jump up on the stage and take a
part in the acting, and are inclined, all throughout, to do so, like a
child or a savage, or Don Quixote at the puppet-show.
From time to time, indeed, we do see a detached scene or two as
spectators, and then most exceedingly entertaining it is. Such was the
case with Carlo Carlini, as he sat reclining with dignified ease in an
old-fashioned leathern chair, with a long, comfortable, sloping back,
looking alternately at the two faces of Joshua Brown, the pedlar, and
Mr. Mingy Bowes, when they met, so unexpectedly to the latter.
Carlini, as the reader is aware, was totally unacquainted with the
peculiar circumstances in which the two now encountered each other;
and therefore the expression of their countenances had all the
advantage of mystery. Joshua Brown sat gazing upon the new-comer with
a look of old Roman sternness, which was not lost upon Mr. Bowes. The
expression of the latter was full of surprise, joined with a
considerable portion of apprehension; for his first idea was that
the pedlar was there for the purpose of handing him over to a
police-officer and bearing testimony against him. Now, knowing himself
assailable upon many points, Mr. Bowes was by no means fond of
police-offices the investigations at which are sometimes carried a
good deal farther than is either agreeable or convenient to persons of
his profession. The first effect, therefore, of the apparition of the
pedlar was surprise; the second was fear; but surprise was of course
over in an instant, being the most evanescent of all things; and fear
was soon banished likewise by reliance on his own skill, and on the
arms which he believed were in his hands.
"Good evening, Mr. Bowes," said the pedlar, who was the first to
speak; "I did not expect to meet you here to-day, when I came in just
now. Don't you think it may be a little dangerous both for you and for
your friend Sam to show yourselves in London, so soon after what took
place down near Frimley?"
"I don't know why it should," said Mingy Bowes, with the most innocent
air in the world: "I have only come to speak to the colonel upon the
little business you know of."
"What colonel?" demanded Joshua Brown, speaking civilly, and motioning
Mr. Bowes to a seat; for it was his object to make the "fence," as he
was called, say all he had to say, and lay open his game as far as his
discretion would permit him.
They were both men of the world, however; and Master Mingy, having had
a great deal of very delicate work to do in his lifetime, was not a
little cautious. He thought, indeed, that there could be no great harm
in answering the question as nakedly as it was put; and he
consequently replied--
"Why, Colonel Middleton, to be sure."
"Oh, Colonel Middleton!" said the pedlar; "I suppose I have no
business to ask what you want with Colonel Middleton."
"I should think not," said Mingy Bowes.
"Well, at all events, Colonel Middleton is out," said Carlini: "he
won't be home from the country till it is late, and as soon as he does
come home he's going out again."
"Ha!" said Mr. Bowes, who was fast getting over his apprehensions:
"nevertheless, I must have a word or two with him, sir, and that as
soon as possible."
"You'll find that difficult," replied Carlini, "unless you tell me
what your business is; for he will not see any one whom he does not
know, without inquiring what he wants."
"Then he may find he's got into the wrong box," said the "fence," in
rather a menacing tone.
"'Box?'" said Carlini; "what does he mean by 'box?'"
"He means what he does not understand himself," said the pedlar,
leaning his two hands upon the table, and slowly and deliberately
rising from his seat, as if he were somewhat stiff and weary. He then
took a step or two towards the door, with a heavy, unconcerned air.
Mr. Mingy Bowes did not at first remark the proceeding; but, as Joshua
Brown got between him and the way out, he felt a little nervous, which
nervousness was greatly increased when he saw the pedlar put his hand
upon the key in the lock.
"What are you going to do?" he exclaimed, starting up; "I don't choose
to be locked in."
"Sit down, Mr. Bowes," said Joshua Brown, in a tone very quiet, but
very stern; and at the same moment he turned the key in the lock, drew
it out, and put it in his pocket. He then walked back to his seat, in
the same sort of stiff, heavy manner.
There was something very impressive in that sort of semi-limp; and Mr.
Bowes sat himself down again, and began playing with the buttons at
the knees of his drab breeches, apparently to pass the time while
waiting for an explanation.
Before he gave one, however, Joshua Brown poured himself out
half-a-glass of wine, and took a sip or two, without the least hurry
in the world; but at length he said--
"Now, Mingy Bowes, I dare say you want to hear why I have locked the
door. It's only because I've got a word or two to say to you, which
might, perhaps, make you bolt before you had heard the whole, and that
would not suit me. You're a dealer in marine stores, I take it?"
"Well, I know that," said Mingy Bowes; "all the world knows that."
"Good!" said Joshua Brown; "and you keep a thieves' bank, and receive
stolen goods, and run a little tobacco, and come and go between
gentlemen 'on the lay' and those who take the goods up to London.
There--don't interrupt me, for all the world knows that, too. Many a
gold thimble, and many a silver one too, you've helped off the shelf
in your day: that I know as well as you, and can prove it too when I
like. But there's one thing I desire very much to hear--that's to say,
what is just now behind that long iron door in your back parlour?"
This was thrown out at random, simply to create apprehension; for
Joshua Brown had not the slightest idea that within that cupboard was
to be found anything but stolen goods. It had even more effect than he
expected, for Mr. Bowes turned as white as a sheet, thinking, not
unnaturally, that some of the most treasured secrets of his dwelling
had been by some strange chance discovered. Still, however, caution
was uppermost, and he sat as mute as a fish.
"However, that's not the question now," said Joshua Brown; "what I
want to ask is, what are you up to just now, Mr. Bowes?"
"I don't see what that is to you," said the worthy whom he addressed.
"I mind my business, you mind yours."
This was the sort of timid boldness of a cat in a corner, but Joshua
Brown was not all moved thereby.
"It's a great deal to me," he answered; "for the case is this, Mr.
Bowes: I and another gentleman, a friend of mine, were robbed the
other night, in the lane just beyond Knight's-hill. Some of the goods
you got and sent up to London; some you didn't get." (Mr. Bowes gave a
start, for this was touching the reputation of subordinates.) "Now, I
and the other gentleman are in the same basket; and I'm resolved that
I'll either have the information I want or the goods back again--all
of them--or that you and Sam and the other three shall go across the
water to Botany, even if nothing worse comes of it."
Mr. Mingy Bowes paused and considered for a single instant, and he
determined that, in the first instance at least, he would try the
dogged vein; for, to know nothing of anybody or anything is very often
a rogue's first resource.
"I don't know anything about what you mean by 'Sam and the other
three,'" he replied: "you must be joking, I think; and as to myself, I
should like to hear what you intend to do; for you can't hurt me, I
take it."
"That's easily told," answered Joshua Brown, coolly. "I intend, if you
do not tell me what you're up to, to call for an officer, give you in
charge, and tell the police that, if they choose to send down a
gentleman in plain clothes to your place, and put out the gentleman
you've left there, they'll soon get plenty of evidence of your trade,
and catch the whole gang of you. I dare say a sergeant of the force
can carry on your business for a week or a fortnight quite as well as
you can."
This was certainly a very frightful announcement to Mr. Mingy Bowes.
It was a stratagem he had never dreamed of, and his heart sank a good
deal; but yet, for two or three minutes, he could not tell how to
enter into the sort of compromise which seemed to be offered to him,
without acknowledging the justice of the charges against him. An
excuse for yielding without confessing seemed wanting, but at length
he found one, though it was rather lame.
"It would be the ruin of me," he said, "to be kept out of my business
for a month in that way. Come, speak out; what is it you want me to
tell you?"
"I want to know," replied the pedlar, "what you are up to, coming
hanging about this hotel. You know quite well, Mr. Bowes, I saw Sam
burn a pocket-book belonging to a friend of mine. At the same time he
told me what sort of a story he thought he had got hold of in that
pocket-book; and, though he was wrong altogether, and only making a
fool of himself, I want to know what 'lay' you and he are upon now."
Mingy considered for a minute or two. A lie first came up to his lips,
of course; but then he recollected that all parties concerned were
likely very soon to hear everything which had passed between him and
Lady Fleetwood. It is true, he never liked dealing with any but
principals; but that was a small matter compared with a compromise in
the circumstances of grave difficulty which surrounded him; and he
therefore replied--
"Well, I don't mind telling you all that, if you promise upon your
life and soul not to stop my going back to my own business."
It was now the pedlar's turn to consider; for, to tell the truth,
there was a certain feeling of false honour about him which made him
shrink from the idea of being an informer; but yet he did not like to
give out of his own hands the power of restraining Mr. Mingy Bowes's
actions in the case with which he was then dealing.
"Why, the case is this," said the pedlar: "you see, Mr. Bowes,
whenever I promise anything, I always do it, come what will; and now
you are asking me for a great thing in return for a small thing. I
look upon it that I have got you by the neck, Mr. Bowes, as I may say;
for I can swear that I saw, at your house, one of the men who robbed
me and t'other gentleman, with part of the stolen property in his
possession; and that you, knowing it to be stolen, helped him to drive
a bargain about restoring it. Now, you want me to acquit you of all
this, for nothing but telling me something which I shall know before
to-morrow's over. That's too much."
It certainly was an awkward way of putting the question, and Mingy
Bowes did not at all like the look of things. He had recourse to
silence, as the best resource; and after waiting a minute or two, the
pedlar proceeded thus:--
"I am inclined to be liberal, Mr. Bowes, and don't wish to be hard
upon any man; so, if you'll make a fair offer, I'll promise upon my
word of honour not to hurt you."
"The job is," said Mingy, with a sudden burst of frankness, under the
influence of fear, "that I can do anything you like myself, but I
cannot answer for that man Sam. He's a wild, headstrong devil, worse
than a pig, for he'll neither be led nor driven, nor pulled back by
the leg."
"So I should judge," said Joshua Brown, "and one can't expect any man
to do more than he can do. Therefore, if you'll promise to tell us all
you know, and to work with us afterwards in any way I tell you--this
gentleman here's a witness--I'll let you off altogether, and not mix
you up in the matter at all."
It was a hard pill to swallow; for, although Mr. Mingy did not possess
much even of that honour which is said to exist amongst thieves, yet
he had to remember that his reputation as a trustworthy receiver of
stolen goods was at stake. Considering, however, that promises are but
air, and that while that made by the pedlar, in presence of a witness,
would at any time give him a fair opportunity of turning king's
evidence, a thousand means of evading his own engagements might
present themselves, he took the pledge offered to him, and informed
Joshua Brown of all the plans and purposes of himself and his
excellent confederate, and all that they knew, or thought they knew,
of Colonel Middleton.
While this detail took place, Carlini sat by and listened; but at the
latter part of the statement he laughed aloud.
"Why, what a set of fools you must be!" he said: "my master's a
Spaniard by birth, and has lived almost all his life in Spain. He was
in Mexico at the time you talk of. That I can prove; and the whole
story you have got up could be blown to pieces by gentlemen now in
England."
The pedlar bit a piece of hard skin off his thumb, which in his case
was tantamount to an expression of doubt; but he said nothing, for he
was very well satisfied that Mr. Mingy Bowes should be led to
disbelieve the truth of the story he had heard.
"Are you serious?" said the marine store dealer, addressing Carlini.
"Quite," said the Italian, with a scornful look: "your friend has made
some blunder, Mr. Bowes. His excellency, my master, has got cousins in
London who have known him from his birth; and, do what you will, you
cannot make him out anything but what he is. So, as this blackguard is
going himself, you say, to Lady Fleetwood, the day after to-morrow,
you can let him go. He'll only get himself into a scrape, and nobody
else."
"Well, I've only told you what he told me," said Mingy Bowes; "but I
don't think he told me the whole, and I did not see the inside of the
book that he burned."
"Stop a bit," said Joshua Brown: "at what hour did you say he was to
be there?"
"At twelve o'clock," answered the marine store dealer.
"I was to go with him to introduce him; but I thought I would just
come here and see the colonel myself, to have a little deal with him
if possible in the first place."
"It is well you did not see him," replied Carlini; "for, depend upon
it, he would have thrown you out of the window. He's not a man to be
frightened, I can tell you."
"I should think not," said Joshua Brown, with a laugh; "but now, Mr.
Bowes, as all things are clear, and as we understand each other, I
have nothing more to say, only that you must not go out of town till I
tell you; and you must come and see me to-morrow morning at ten
o'clock."
Mingy Bowes promised.
"I am very punctual," said the pedlar, with a meaning look; "and, as I
shall certainly want to speak with you, if you don't come I must look
for you, and get people to help me."
Mingy understood him completely, repeated his promise, with a full
determination of keeping it for fear of worse consequences, and
received the pedlar's address--No. 43, Compton Street, Seven Dials.
"Now, mind," said the pedlar, as the worthy "fence" took up his hat to
depart, "you're not to say a word to Sam of anything that has happened
till I see you to-morrow. Perhaps I may then allow you to tell him
what a fool he is making of himself; perhaps I may let him go on and
trap himself."
Mingy Bowes was all obedience; for the confident tone of the Italian
servant had greatly shaken his reliance on his friend Sam's
conclusions, and his own somewhat perilous position had rendered him
wonderfully ductile. A good deal chapfallen, he took a very polite
leave of his two companions, and left them alone to discuss the scene
which had just passed. The first observation came from the lips of
Signor Carlo Carlini, who exclaimed, in an indignant tone--
"What a set of blackguards you have in this country of England! My
countrymen are bad enough, and so are the Spaniards; but it seems to
me brave and honourable to attack a carriage, perhaps escorted by a
dozen or two of dragoons, when compared with this attempt to rob a man
of his money by accusing him of a crime. A bandit is a gentleman to
such a fellow as that."
"There are a great number of such, I am afraid," replied the pedlar.
"These things are happening every day in London; and I have known two
or three cases in which a gentleman in the same situation as yourself
has made a great deal of money, and set up a hotel, upon the strength
of some letters which he had found belonging to his master. You cannot
form a notion of all that is going on every day in this great city;
but wherever you get a great number of men together, you are sure to
gather a great quantity of rascality. But, as to this business, we
must talk to the colonel, and see what he thinks it better for us to
do. So, with your leave, I will stop till he comes back, and should
like in the mean time to hear the rest of the story you were telling
me."
"With all my heart," replied Carlini. "Let me see where I was. Oh--I
remember I was just telling you how G----, the life-guardsman, rose to
be a prince and a grandee of Spain."
CARLINI'S STORY, CONTINUED.
"Spain is a very curious country, sir--a very curious country indeed.
Things happen there every day that could happen in no other spot of
the globe. It is like one of those things which I think you call magic
lanterns, where the scenes are always shifting, and nothing on earth
remains steady for an hour. You may see a little ragged boy running in
the street, and not long after he'll be walking about the court; a
great man in velvet and lace, without anybody but himself knowing how
it happened. There are only four things necessary to it--impudence,
cleverness, youth, and good luck. Well, as I was saying, G----, the
life-guardsman, in a very few months rose from nothing at all to be a
prince and a minister. The old nobility grumbled and growled, and all
the new people tried to stop his progress, till they found it was
useless; but in the end the old and the new, both together, bowed down
and licked his feet. All this time, as I have said, I heard nothing of
him; and I thought he had quite forgotten me, and was just as selfish
and cold-hearted as such sort of people generally are. But I made a
mistake, sir, and think it but right to do justice to a man against
whom everybody cries out. One day, as I was walking along the street
in which his palace was situated--for he lived in a palace by this
time--I saw a fine horse standing before the little door (there was a
great door, where the carriages went in), and three or four servants,
all magnificently dressed, by the side of it. Just as I was going to
pass, who should come out but the prince himself, in a general's
uniform, all gold, and feathers, and jingling spurs! I drew back, with
my brass basin under my arm, to let him go by, thinking he would take
no notice of me. His eye fell upon me, however; and he knew me
directly and stopped. 'Ah, Carlini!' he said, 'is that you? Why, you
have never been to see me. I haven't forgotten you, and if I can do
anything to serve you, I will. Come to me here to-morrow at ten
o'clock;' and then he told the servants to let me be admitted. There
are some people who, as the French say, suffer fortune to knock at
their door and do not open, but I am not one of that kind; and putting
on the best clothes I had, I left my brass basin and my razors behind
me, and went away the next morning to see the prince. I suppose there
were at least twenty people in his ante-room, waiting to see him, and
amongst them a great number of noblemen and high officers; but I went
through them all, after a page, and was shown straight in. I could
hear some of them say to their neighbours, 'Why, that's Carlini, the
barber! We shall not see the prince for an hour, if he's only just
going to be shaved;' but I laughed in my sleeve and went on. I found
the great man stretched at his ease, in a dressing-gown of gold
brocade, and I stood near the door, bowing down to the ground; but he
said, 'Come near, Carlini--come near and sit down;' and he began to
talk to me just as familiarly as ever. He even spoke about the silk
stockings, and said, 'Ay, those silk stockings made my fortune, and I
won't be ungrateful to them or you.' He then went on to speak of a
great number of other things, and joked and laughed with me till I
believe the people in the ante-room thought I was telling him all the
scandal of the court, as barbers often will do; but at last he began
to be more serious, and questioned me about what knowledge I
possessed. He had not much himself, so that I don't wonder he was
surprised to find that I could read and write, speak several
languages, and keep accounts as well as any _contador_. At length he
dismissed me, saying, 'I won't forget you, Carlini--I won't forget
you; and if ever you think have done so, come back at this hour, and
they will let you in.' But I had no occasion; for three days had
scarcely passed when he sent for me, and told me that the king had
graciously permitted him to name the viceroy of the Indies, and that
he had appointed a certain nobleman (whose chin, I was very glad to
find, had never come under my razor), upon the condition that he gave
him the nomination of his _intendente_--that is to say, a sort of
steward. 'Now, Carlini,' he said, 'if this suits you, you shall have
the place;' and he told me how much it was worth--besides pickings.
'You had better take it,' he said, 'if you don't mind going to Lima;
for it is the best thing I can offer you, and heaven knows how long I
may be here to offer you anything. Fortune is fickle, and as she
raised me up, so she may cast me down; but if you take this, you at
all events open for yourself a new path in life, which may perhaps
lead to greatness and wealth.'
"I was very much inclined to cast myself at his feet and give him
honours more than his due; but you need not ask me whether I accepted
the proposal, which placed me in a position that I had never even
dreamed of obtaining. I was introduced to the newly-created viceroy,
gave him apparently the fullest satisfaction, and set out with him tor
Lima, applying myself heartily to learn, before I reached the shores
of the New World, the business which I was likely to be called upon to
transact. By close attention I made such great progress, that my new
patron, although at first somewhat cold towards me, who had been
forced into his service, became attached to me, and relied upon me
entirely. During two years I transacted the whole business of his
household, amassed great wealth, and as the business of my actual
office was as small as the emoluments were great, I had plenty of time
both to push my fortune and to enjoy my leisure. The _intendente_ of
the viceroy was a very great man. His favour and his influence were
sought for by all classes of people. A great portion of the wealth of
the province passed through his hands; and, enlarging my views with my
opportunities, I established a bank in Lima, rendered a large house in
Mexico a mere branch of my establishment, and, passing from the one
city to the other whenever the business of my _intendencia_ permitted,
became one of the greatest dealers in the precious metals to be found
in all the colonies. But I had fallen upon those changeful times which
left none of the world's goods firm and stable. Revolutionary ideas
began to get abroad; and, with a miscalculation very common in those
who have been born and acted under one period while passing to
another, I thought the things which I had been accustomed to retained
sufficient vitality to last, even though the germs of a new order of
events were destroying their roots and pushing through the ground. At
all events, gratitude towards the viceroy, who had been most kind and
generous towards me, would have induced me to pursue the same course
which I did follow, even if I had known that circumstances were
against him. His friends would have been my friends; his supporters,
those to whom I granted support. I was in the world of wealth; the
power of wealth was greater than the power of authority; and as, by
his generous carelessness, the wealth was at my command while the
authority was at his, I might be said to be more powerful in the
Indies than himself. I call heaven to witness that I did not use this
great power amiss. Undoubtedly, I supported the existing state of
things. By it I had risen; on it my fortunes were founded; and no one
had a right to attribute to me as a crime gratitude to those who had
befriended me, and the support of institutions under which I lived and
prospered. But then came the revolution: the colonies took advantage
of the weakness of the mother country--a weakness which their
establishment had first caused, and which their support had nurtured.
They cast off the yoke; they forgot all former benefits; I became
loaded with odium; my bank was pillaged; my property was sequestrated;
my house was sacked; and I was cast into one of the dungeons of the
old inquisition, where I remained for nine months, in a state of
horrible neglect and privation, which it is impossible to describe. My
food was scanty, the attendance I received grudging and unwilling. I
had no bed, no accommodation of any kind. The mud, in some parts of
the horrible cell to which I was consigned, was several inches deep,
and the straw upon which I slept was at the bottom soaked in water. I
went into that dreary abode a healthy and powerful man, in the early
prime of life; I came out a skeleton, hardly able to drag my feeble
limbs along. By this time some degree of order was restored, and a
show of law was established. It was necessary to try me, as I had been
so long confined; and idle charges were fabricated to justify my long
detention and the pillage of my property. Not even the skill and the
malice of those who seek to justify wrong could devise an accusation
that was tenable. My accounts were all in order; and, although no
person had a right to investigate them but the viceroy, whom they had
expelled, they could not even found a charge upon them. As a base
excuse, however, for refusing to do me justice, they declared that I
had systematically denied all assistance to the leaders of the
revolution, in my capacity as a banker; and, after having been one of
the most wealthy men of the land, I was cast upon the world utterly
penniless. There are some men, however, who act by divine laws and not
by human ones. I am afraid that they are to be found only in the lower
portion of the middle class. There are none more cruelly tyrannical
than the people; none more selfishly careless than the upper class.
The latter are the best masters, because in their carelessness they
are generous while they have the means. The former are the worst,
because their minds have never been expanded by prosperity, and
because their passions are capricious in proportion to their numbers.
But in the middle class you find the men who have lived by right and
equity, and are sensible of the benefits of right and equity: nay,
more--who will follow them sometimes even when they don't see good
consequences to themselves. I wandered through Lima, without a friend
as I thought, and certainly without a penny; but passing by the door
of a goldsmith, to whom I had once lent money, he called me in and
made his house my home. He and I consulted with regard to my affairs.
Most of those to whom I had lent large sums had fled; others had
joined the revolutionary party and were beyond my reach; but there
were a few who owed me trifling debts, of thirty or forty crowns,
which I had no power of reclaiming, for all my papers were in the
hands of the state; but nine out of ten of those who could do so paid
me, and I gained sufficient money to come to Europe and to subsist for
a few months. It was necessary that I should adopt some new trade. I
landed in France, went to Paris, offered myself as a servant, and
became courier to an English gentleman. I travelled with him for two
years, made myself thoroughly acquainted with his language, of which I
had learned a good deal before in Naples, and at last lost him, for he
was drowned on a party of pleasure, passing from St. Malo to Jersey. I
then became courier to a German count, but I only remained in his
service for three months; and at the end of that time, after gambling
unsuccessfully, he left me to provide for myself. I now found that I
was better fitted for a barber than for a courier, and was thinking of
resuming my old profession, when the place of waiter at an inn was
offered to me at Bordeaux. There I happened to meet with my present
master. He did not recollect me in the least, but he was kind and
courteous to everybody; and, as the landlord endeavoured to cheat him
enormously, one day, in a fit of spleen or indignation, call it what
you will, I warned him of the fact, and was dismissed for my pains by
the good master of the house. Some days after, I met his excellency in
the streets. He remembered me as the waiter, though not as the banker,
asked my circumstances, and on my telling him the whole story of my
dismissal, engaged me as his servant. With him I have remained ever
since; and, as I told you before, a better master does not live. I
have been with him in a good number of different countries; and I know
quite well that if I act faithfully to him I shall always find him act
generously towards me. I am too old to push my fortunes as I did when
I was young; and circumstanced as I am, I find--although in life I
have very often seen the contrary--that for me, at least, according to
your English maxim, honesty is the best policy."
"I have always found it so," replied the pedlar; "but yet one sees
people get on wonderfully by the other course. Now, this very man who
was here just now is as great a rogue as any in the world, and yet he
has risen from a shoeblack, and made a good deal of money, I am told,
by pure lying and rascality. I wonder if that story he told about his
visits to Lady What-d'ye-call-her is true or false."
"Lady Fleetwood, do you mean?" said Carlini. "Oh, we can easily find
that out. I know two of her servants very well--her own footman and
the housekeeper. The footman can tell whether this Mr. Bowes has been
there, and very likely a good deal more; for I have remarked, Mr.
Brown, that the servants of all nations, in whatever else they may
differ, are alike in listening at doors. Let us walk down to the old
lady's house. We can be back before his excellency returns, I dare
say."
The pedlar thought the proposal a very good one, and they accordingly
set out. Whatever was the fruit of their expedition--of which more
hereafter--they received confirmation strong of the truth of Carlini's
judgment as to the eavesdropping propensities of English as well as
other servants.