“Indeed! and where does he lodge all this time?” said Tressilian.  “And does he shoe horses well?  Show me his dwelling presently.”

The interruption pleased not the Magister, who exclaimed, “O CAECA mens MORTALIUM!—­though, by the way, I used that quotation before.  But I would the classics could afford me any sentiment of power to stop those who are so willing to rush upon their own destruction.  Hear but, I pray you, the conditions of this man,” said he, in continuation, “ere you are so willing to place yourself within his danger—­”

“A’ takes no money for a’s work,” said the dame, who stood by, enraptured as it were with the line words and learned apophthegms which glided so fluently from her erudite inmate, Master Holiday.  But this interruption pleased not the Magister more than that of the traveller.

“Peace,” said he, “Gammer Sludge; know your place, if it be your will.  SUFFLAMINA, Gammer Sludge, and allow me to expound this matter to our worshipful guest.—­Sir,” said he, again addressing Tressilian, “this old woman speaks true, though in her own rude style; for certainly this Faber FERRARIUS, or blacksmith, takes money of no one.”

“And that is a sure sign he deals with Satan,” said Dame Sludge; “since no good Christian would ever refuse the wages of his labour.”

“The old woman hath touched it again,” said the pedagogue; “REM ACU TETIGIT—­she hath pricked it with her needle’s point.  This Wayland takes no money, indeed; nor doth he show himself to any one.”

“And can this madman, for such I hold him,” said the traveller, “know aught like good skill of his trade?”

“Oh, sir, in that let us give the devil his due—­Mulciber himself, with all his Cyclops, could hardly amend him.  But assuredly there is little wisdom in taking counsel or receiving aid from one who is but too plainly in league with the author of evil.”

“I must take my chance of that, good Master Holiday,” said Tressilian, rising; “and as my horse must now have eaten his provender, I must needs thank you for your good cheer, and pray you to show me this man’s residence, that I may have the means of proceeding on my journey.”

“Ay, ay, do ye show him, Master Herasmus,” said the old dame, who was, perhaps, desirous to get her house freed of her guest; “a’ must needs go when the devil drives.”

“Do Manus,” said the Magister, “I submit—­taking the world to witness, that I have possessed this honourable gentleman with the full injustice which he has done and shall do to his own soul, if he becomes thus a trinketer with Satan.  Neither will I go forth with our guest myself, but rather send my pupil.—­RICARDE!  ADSIS, NEBULO.”

“Under your favour, not so,” answered the old woman; “you may peril your own soul, if you list, but my son shall budge on no such errand.  And I wonder at you, Dominie Doctor, to propose such a piece of service for little Dickie.”