why the Bible, as they call it, should
not be true. By the bye, what do you call Bible in your tongue, or,
indeed, book of any kind? as Bible merely means a book."

"What do I call the Bible in my language, dear?"

"Yes, the language of those who bring you things."

"The language of those who _did_, dear; they bring them now no longer.
They call me fool, as you did, dear, just now; they call kissing the
Bible, which means taking a false oath, smacking calfskin."

"That's metaphor," said I; "English, but metaphorical; what an odd
language! So you would like to have a Bible,--shall I buy you one?"

"I am poor, dear--no money since I left off the other trade."

"Well, then, I'll buy you one."

"No, dear, no; you are poor, and may soon want the money; but if you can
take me one conveniently on the sly, you know--I think you may, for, as
it is a good book, I suppose there can be no harm in taking it."

"That will never do," said I, "more especially as I should be sure to be
caught, not having made taking of things my trade; but I'll tell you what
I'll do--try and exchange this book of yours for a Bible; who knows for
what great things this same book of yours may serve?"

"Well, dear," said the old woman, "do as you please; I should like to see
the--what do you call it?--Bible, and to read it, as you seem to think it
true."

"Yes," said I, "seem; that is the way to express yourself in this maze of
doubt--I seem to think--these apples and pears seem to be--and here seems
to be a gentleman who wants to purchase either one or the other."

A person had stopped before the apple-woman's stall, and was glancing now
at the fruit, now at the old woman and myself; he wore a blue mantle, and
had a kind of fur cap on his head; he was somewhat above the middle
stature; his features were keen, but rather hard; there was a slight
obliquity in his vision. Selecting a small apple, he gave the old woman
a penny; then, after looking at me scrutinisingly for a moment, he moved
from the booth in the direction of Southwark.

"Do you know who that man is?" said I to the old woman.

"No," said she, "except that he is one of my best customers: he
frequently stops, takes an apple, and gives me a penny; his is the only
piece of money I have taken this blessed day. I don't know him, but he
has once or twice sat down in the booth with two strange-looking
men--Mulattos, or Lascars, I think they call them."

CHAPTER XLV

Bough