and that the most dangerous
opponents, namely, the Amateur and the Barber, could avail nothing
against him.

Peregrine found, from Swammerdamm's thoughts, that both the
microscopists actually imagined they had read in his horoscope the
inevitable necessity of his marriage with Doertje. It was to this
supposed necessity only they yielded, thinking to draw the greatest
gain from the apparent loss of the little-one, namely, by getting
possession of Mr. Tyss and his talisman. But it may be easily supposed
how little faith he must have in the science of the two microscopists,
when neither of them was able to solve the centre-point of the
horoscope. He did not, therefore, at all yield to that pretended
conjunction, which conditioned the necessity of his marriage with
Gamaheh, and found no difficulty whatever in declaring positively, that
he renounced her hand in favour of his best friend, George Pepusch, who
had older and better claims to the fair one, and that he would not
break his word upon any condition.

Swammerdamm raised his green eyes, which he had so long cast down,
stared vehemently at Peregrine, and grinned with the cunning of a fox,
as he said, if the friendship between him and Pepusch were the only
scruple which kept him from giving free scope to his feelings, this
obstacle existed no longer: Pepusch had perceived, although slightly
touched with madness, his marriage with Doertje was against the stars,
and nothing could come from it but misery and destruction. He had
therefore resigned all his pretensions, declaring only that, with his
life, he would protect Gamaheh,--who could belong to no one but his
bosom-friend, Tyss,--against the awkward dolt of an Amateur and the
bloodthirsty Barber.

A cold shudder ran through Peregrine, when he perceived, from
Swammerdamm's thoughts, that all was true which he had spoken.
Overpowered by the strangest and the most opposite feelings, he sank
back upon his pillow and closed his eyes. The microscopist pressed him
to come down himself, and hear from Doertje's mouth, from George's, the
present state of things, and then took his leave with as much ceremony
as he had entered.

Master Flea, who sate the whole time quietly on the pillow, suddenly
leaped up to the top of Peregrine's nightcap. There he raised himself
up on his long hind-legs, wrung his hands, stretched them imploringly
to Heaven, and cried out in a voice half stifled with tears,

"Woe to poor me! I already tho