don't you know me?"

"No, sir," said the host of the George and Dragon, after a puzzled
stare, "I can't say I do, sir."

The stranger smiled a little sadly, and shook his head: and with a
gentle laugh, still holding his hand in a very friendly way, he said, "I
should have known you anywhere, Mr. Turnbull--anywhere on earth or
water. Had you turned up on the Himalayas, or in a junk on the Canton
river, or as a dervish in the mosque of St. Sophia, I should have
recognised my old friend, and asked what news from Golden Friars. But of
course I'm changed. You were a little my senior; and one advantage among
many you have over your juniors is that you don't change as we do. I
have played many a game of hand-ball in the inn-yard of the George, Mr.
Turnbull. You often wagered a pot of ale on my play; you used to say I'd
make the best player of fives, and the best singer of a song, within ten
miles round the meer. You used to have me behind the bar when I was a
boy, with more of an appetite than I have now. I was then at Mardykes
Hall, and used to go back in old Marlin's boat. Is old Marlin still
alive?"

"Ay, that--he--is," said Turnbull slowly, as he eyed the stranger again
carefully. "I don't know who you can be, sir, unless you are--the
boy--William Feltram. La! he was seven or eight years younger than
Philip. But, lawk!--Well--By Jen, and _be_ you Willie Feltram? But no,
you can't!"

"Ay, Mr. Turnbull, that very boy--Willie Feltram--even he, and no other;
and now you'll shake hands with me, not so formally, but like an old
friend."

"Ay, that I will," said honest Richard Turnbull, with a great smile, and
a hearty grasp of his guest's hand; and they both laughed together, and
the younger man's eyes, for he was an affectionate fool, filled up with
tears.

"And I want you to tell me this," said William, after they had talked a
little quietly, "now that there is no one to interrupt us, what has
become of my brother Philip? I heard from a friend an account of his
health that has caused me unspeakable anxiety."

"His health was not bad; no, he was a hardy lad, and liked a walk over
the fells, or a pull on the lake; but he was a bit daft, every one said,
and a changed man; and, in troth, they say the air o' Mardykes don't
agree with every one, no more than him. But that's a tale that's neither
here nor there."

"Yes," said William, "that was what they told me--his mind affected. God
help and guard us! I have been unhapp