It's a great thing to be a child, and to understand those sort of things. When I was six years old I knew who William Rufus married, and how many people died in the Plague of London. I can't say it made me any happier or better, but I dare say it was a great advantage."
At this moment the bell hung at the shop-door (a noisy preventive of petty larceny, giving the alarm if any juvenile delinquent had a desire to abstract a bottle of castor-oil, or a camomile-pill or so, for his peculiar benefit) rang violently, and our old friend Mr. Peters burst into the shop, and through the shop into the parlour, in a state of such excitement that his very fingers seemed out of breath.
"Back again?" cried Richard, starting up with surprise; for be it known to the reader that Mr. Peters had only the day before started for Slopperton-on-the-Sloshy to hunt up evidence about this man, whose very image lay buried outside that town.
Before the fingers of Mr. Peters, which quite shook with excitement, could shape an answer to Richard’s exclamation of surprise, a very dignified elderly gentleman, whose appearance was almost clerical, followed the detective into the room, and bowed politely to the assembled party.
"I will take upon myself to be my own sponsor," said that gentleman. "If, as I believe, I am speaking to Mr. Marwood," he added, looking at Richard, who bowed affirmatively, "it is to the interest of both of us—of you, sir, more especially—that we should become acquainted. I am Dr. Tappenden, of Slopperton."
Mr. Cordonner, having politely withdrawn himself from the group so as not to interfere with any confidential communication, was here imprudent enough to attempt to select a book from the young surgeon's hanging-library, and, in endeavouring to take down the third volume of Bragelonne, brought down, as usual, the entire literary shower-bath on his devoted head, and sat quietly snowed up, as it were, in loose leaves of Michel Lévy’s shilling edition, and fragments of illustrations by Tony Johannot.
Richard looked a little puzzled at Dr. Tappenden's introduction; but Mr. Peters threw in upon his fingers this piece of information,—"He knows him!" and Richard was immediately interested.
"We are all friends here, I believe?" said the schoolmaster, glancing round interrogatively.
"Oh, decidedly, Monsieur d'Artagnan," replied Percy, absently looking up from one of the loose leaves he had selected for perusal from those scattered around him.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan! Your friend is pleased to be facetious," said the Doctor, with some indignation.
"Oh, pray excuse him, sir. He is only absent-minded," replied
