was forced to keep it from you, because I myself had not
the full conviction of it; but now learn, that I myself am the thistle,
Zeherit, and will never give up my claims to the hand of the daughter
of the worthy king, Sekakis, the heavenly Princess Gamaheh. I had found
her, but in the same moment the diabolical watchmen seized me, and
dragged me to prison."

"How!" cried Peregrine, half petrified with astonishment, "are you too
involved in the strangest of all histories?"

"What history?" asked Pepusch.

Peregrine did not hesitate to tell his friend, as he had before told
Mr. Swammer, all that had happened at the bookbinder's, and afterwards
at his own house. He did not even conceal the appearance of Master
Flea, although, as may be easily supposed, he kept to himself the
secret of his possessing the microscopic glass.

George's eyes burnt, he bit his lips, struck his forehead, and, when
Peregrine had ended, cried out like a maniac, "The false one! the
traitress!" Greedy, in the self-pangs of despairing love, to drain the
last drop from the poison-cup, which Peregrine had unconsciously
proffered him, he made him repeat every little trait of Doertje's
behaviour, interrupting him with murmurs of--"In the arms! on the
breast! glowing kisses!" Then again he started away from the window,
and ran about the room with the gestures of a madman. In vain Peregrine
cried out to him to hear the rest, exclaiming that he had much that was
consolatory to say--Pepusch did not the more leave off his raving.

The door was opened, and an officer of the council announced to
Peregrine that no sufficient cause had been found for his longer
imprisonment, and he might return home.

The first use Peregrine made of his regained freedom was to offer
himself as bail for George Pepusch, testifying that he was really
George Pepusch, with whom he had lived in intimacy at Madras, and who
was known to him for a man of fortune and respectability.

Master Flea exhausted himself in very philosophic and instructive
reflections, which amounted to this, that the Thistle, Zeherit, in
spite of his rough exterior, was very kind and reasonable, but a little
too overbearing, and, fairly considered, was quite correct in his
censure of Mr. Peregrine's way of life, though somewhat too harsh
perhaps in his expressions. He too,--that is, Master Flea,--would
really advise Mr. Peregrine henceforth to go abroad in the world.

"Believe me," he said, "it will brin