him was seated his very opposite; a man whose warm, comfortable dress, good-humoured but inexpressive face, though not wanting in a certain sort of good sense, together with an inactivity of body, bespoke the city burgher, well to do in the world. One always prepared to conform, having had long practice that way in the whims of his customers; whose whole terror of the late commotions was centred in the fact, that one day, in consequence of a riot, he had to shut his shop at noon; and who carried his idea of their results no farther than that the present grave fashion led to a great demand for sober colours. At his side was a thin, restless-looking man, whose embrowned skin bore testimony to foreign travel—one of those adventurers who deem their fortune never lies at home, and encounter great risks for the sake, not so much of their gains, as for themselves,—human birds of passage, who make life one perpetual journey in search of wealth, but who never die rich.
"But are you sure Lord Avonleigh has been arrested and sent to London?"
"Am I sure," said the other, looking with a smile at the hostess, "that the ale which we are drinking is good?"
"I saw the ungodly flourishing like a bay-
