“It’s Cobbs!  It’s Cobbs!” cries Master Harry, and comes running to him, and catching hold of his hand.  Miss Norah comes running to him on t’other side and catching hold of his t’other hand, and they both jump for joy.

“I see you a getting out, sir,” says Cobbs.  “I thought it was you.  I thought I couldn’t be mistaken in your height and figure.  What’s the object of your journey, sir?—­Matrimonial?”

“We are going to be married, Cobbs, at Gretna Green,” returned the boy.  “We have run away on purpose.  Norah has been in rather low spirits, Cobbs; but she’ll be happy, now we have found you to be our friend.”

“Thank you, sir, and thank you, miss,” says Cobbs, “for your good opinion. Did you bring any luggage with you, sir?”

If I will believe Boots when he gives me his word and honour upon it, the lady had got a parasol, a smelling-bottle, a round and a half of cold buttered toast, eight peppermint drops, and a hair-brush,—­seemingly a doll’s.  The gentleman had got about half a dozen yards of string, a knife, three or four sheets of writing-paper folded up surprising small, a orange, and a Chaney mug with his name upon it.

“What may be the exact natur of your plans, sir?” says Cobbs.

“To go on,” replied the boy,—­which the courage of that boy was something wonderful!—­“in the morning, and be married to-morrow.”

“Just so, sir,” says Cobbs.  “Would it meet your views, sir, if I was to accompany you?”

When Cobbs said this, they both jumped for joy again, and cried out, “Oh, yes, yes, Cobbs!  Yes!”

“Well, sir,” says Cobbs.  “If you will excuse my having the freedom to give an opinion, what I should recommend would be this.  I’m acquainted with a pony, sir, which, put in a pheayton that I could borrow, would take you and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, (myself driving, if you approved,) to the end of your journey in a very short space of time.  I am not altogether sure, sir, that this pony will be at liberty to-morrow, but even if you had to wait over to-morrow for him, it might be worth your while.  As to the small account here, sir, in case you was to find yourself running at all short, that don’t signify; because I’m a part proprietor of this inn, and it could stand over.”

Boots assures me that when they clapped their hands, and jumped for joy again, and called him “Good Cobbs!” and “Dear Cobbs!” and bent across him to kiss one another in the delight of their confiding hearts, he felt himself the meanest rascal for deceiving ’em that ever was born.

“Is there anything you want just at present, sir?” says Cobbs, mortally ashamed of himself.

“We should like some cakes after dinner,” answered Master Harry, folding his arms, putting out one leg, and looking straight at him, “and two apples,—­and jam.  With dinner we should like to have toast-and-water.  But Norah has always been accustomed to half a glass of currant wine at dessert.  And so have I.”