nal opinions. One of them now, with a quiet,
sarcastic smile still lurking round the corners of his mobile mouth,
turned towards the centre of the room where Mr. Jellyband was standing.

"You seem to think, mine honest friend," he said quietly, "that these
Frenchmen,--spies I think you called them--are mighty clever fellows
to have made mincemeat so to speak of your friend Mr. Peppercorn's
opinions. How did they accomplish that now, think you?"

"Lud! sir, I suppose they talked 'im over. Those Frenchies, I've 'eard
it said, 'ave got the gift of gab--and Mr. 'Empseed 'ere will tell you
'ow it is that they just twist some people round their little finger
like."

"Indeed, and is that so, Mr. Hempseed?" inquired the stranger politely.

"Nay, sir!" replied Mr. Hempseed, much irritated, "I dunno as I can give
you the information you require."

"Faith, then," said the stranger, "let us hope, my worthy host, that
these clever spies will not succeed in upsetting your extremely loyal
opinions."

But this was too much for Mr. Jellyband's pleasant equanimity. He burst
into an uproarious fit of laughter, which was soon echoed by those who
happened to be in his debt.

"Hahaha! hohoho! hehehe!" He laughed in every key, did my worthy host,
and laughed until his sided ached, and his eyes streamed. "At me!
hark at that! Did ye 'ear 'im say that they'd be upsettin' my
opinions?--Eh?--Lud love you, sir, but you do say some queer things."

"Well, Mr. Jellyband," said Mr. Hempseed, sententiously, "you know what
the Scriptures say: 'Let 'im 'oo stands take 'eed lest 'e fall.'"

"But then hark'ee Mr. 'Empseed," retorted Jellyband, still holding his
sides with laughter, "the Scriptures didn't know me. Why, I wouldn't so
much as drink a glass of ale with one o' them murderin' Frenchmen, and
nothin' 'd make me change my opinions. Why! I've 'eard it said that them
frog-eaters can't even speak the King's English, so, of course, if any
of 'em tried to speak their God-forsaken lingo to me, why, I should spot
them directly, see!--and forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes."

"Aye! my honest friend," assented the stranger cheerfully, "I see that
you are much too sharp, and a match for any twenty Frenchmen, and here's
to your very good health, my worthy host, if you'll do me the honour to
finish this bottle of mine with me."

"I am sure you're very polite, sir," said Mr. Jellyband, wiping his eyes
which were still streaming with the abu