The youth bit his lip, made a haughty inclination of the head, and walked leisurely up the wharf, followed with the same appearance of deliberation, by the two seamen who had accompanied him in his visit to the place.  The stranger in green watched the whole movement with a calm and apparently an amused eye, tapping his boot with his whip, and seeming to reflect like one who would willingly find means to continue the discourse.

“Hanged!” he at length uttered, as if to complete the sentence the other had left unfinished.  “It is droll enough that such a fellow should dare to foretel so elevated a fate for me!”

He was evidently preparing to follow the retiring party, when he felt a hand laid a little unceremoniously on his arm, and his step was arrested.

“One word in your ear, sir,” said the attentive tailor, making a significant sign that he had matters of importance to communicate:  “A single word, sir, since you are in the particular service of his Majesty.  Neighbour Pardon,” he continued, with a dignified and patronising air, “the sun is getting low, and you will make it late home, I fear.  The girl will give you the garment, and—­God speed you!  Say nothing of what you have heard and seen, until you have word from me to that effect; for it is seemly that two men, who have had so much experience in a war like this, should not lack in discretion.  Fare ye well, lad!—­pass the good word to the worthy farmer, your father, not forgetting a refreshing hint of friendship to the thrifty housewife, your mother.  Fare ye well, honest youth; fare ye well!”

Homespun, having thus disposed of his admiring companion, waited, with much elevation of mien, until the gaping bumpkin had left the wharf, before he again turned his look on the stranger in green.  The latter had continued standing in his tracks, with an air of undisturbed composure, until he was once more addressed by the tailor, whose character and dimensions he seemed to have taken in, at a single glance of his rapid eye.

“You say, sir, you are a servant of his Majesty?” demanded the latter, determined to solve all doubts as to the other’s claims on his confidence, before he committed himself by any precipitate disclosure.

“I may say more;—­his familiar confident!”

“It is an honour to converse with such a man, that I feel in every bone in my body,” returned the cripple, smoothing his scanty hairs, and bowing nearly to the earth; “a high and loyal honour do I feel this gracious privilege to be.”

“Such as it is, my friend, I take on myself in his Majesty’s name, to bid you welcome.”

“Such munificent condescension would open my whole heart, though treason, and all other unrighteousness was locked up in it.  I am happy, honoured and I doubt not, honourable sir, to have this opportunity of proving my zeal to the King, before one who will not fail to report my humble efforts to his royal ears.”