“That’s fair,” said Haxall.  “I’ll go with you, sir.  Goodbye, Bill,” he exclaimed, turning to his companion, and extending his hand.  But Bill, thrusting both his hands into his pockets, refused the hand, and answered contemptuously—­

“If you’ve turned sniveller, go and snivel with Broadbrim.  I’ve nothing to say to such a mean-spirited devil.”

“You’re a mean devil yourself,” retorted Haxall, all his fiery passions kindling at the other’s taunt.

“Come, my young friend,” said the gentleman, drawing him away gently, “return not railing for railing.  I trust the time may yet come, when reproach, instead of exciting anger, will only be an incentive to examine thy bosom more closely, to see if thou dost not deserve it.”

Long before the conclusion of this conversation, the original cause of it had entered the house with Pownal, and, upon his departure, the little crowd had gradually dispersed, so that, when the benevolent Quaker left, with the boy whom he hoped should be a brand plucked from the burning, very few persons remained.  Bill followed his departing companion with a scornful laugh, but the latter—­as if his good angel stood by his side to strengthen him—­had resolution enough to disregard it.

When Holden and Pownal entered the house, the front part of which was used as a shop, they were received with great civility by a woman who was officiating at the counter, and, upon their desire to speak with her husband, were shown by her into a back room, used as a parlor, and requested to be seated.  Her husband, she said, had stepped out a short time since, though, already, gone longer than she expected, and would certainly be back in a few moments.  Her prophecy was correct, for, sure enough, they were hardly seated before he made his appearance.

He appeared to be an intelligent person, and answered without suspicion or hesitation to the best of his ability, all the questions addressed to him, so soon as he understood their object.  But his information was exceedingly limited.  He knew nothing at all about a person who had occupied the house more than twenty years before—­nor was it, indeed, reasonable to suppose he should.  In all probability the number of tenants was almost as great as of the years that had since elapsed:  the name mentioned to him was a very common one:  many such were to be found in the Directory, and the chances were that the house itself had repeatedly changed owners in a community so changeable and speculating.  If the gentlemen would allow him to suggest, the best course would be to examine the records in the Register’s office, and trace the title down to the time desired.  In this way the name of the owner could, without difficulty, be discovered, and if he were alive he might, perhaps, be able to inform them what had become of the person who was his tenant at the time, although that was hardly probable.