the cart and went with her.  She took me to London and various other places, and I soon found that she was a travelling woman, who went about the country with silks and linen.  I was of great use to her, more especially in those places where we met evil company.  Once, as we were coming from Dover, we were met by two sailors, who stopped our cart, and would have robbed and stripped us.  ’Let me get down,’ said I; so I got down, and fought with them both, till they turned round and ran away.  Two years I lived with the old gentlewoman, who was very kind to me, almost as kind as a mother; at last she fell sick at a place in Lincolnshire, and after a few days died, leaving me her cart and stock in trade, praying me only to see her decently buried, which I did, giving her a funeral fit for a gentlewoman.  After which I travelled the country melancholy enough for want of company, but so far fortunate, that I could take my own part when anybody was uncivil to me.  At last, passing through the valley of Todmorden, I formed the acquaintance of Blazing Bosville and his wife, with whom I occasionally took journeys for company’s sake, for it is melancholy to travel about alone, even when one can take one’s own part.  I soon found they were evil people; but, upon the whole, they treated me civilly, and I sometimes lent them a little money, so that we got on tolerably well together.  He and I, it is true, had once a dispute, and nearly came to blows; for once, when we were alone, he wanted me to marry him, promising, if I would, to turn off Grey Moll, or if I liked it better, to make her wait upon me as a maid-servant.  I never liked him much, but from that hour less than ever.  Of the two, I believe Grey Moll to be the best, for she is at any rate true and faithful to him, and I like truth and constancy, don’t you, young man?”

“Yes,” said I, “they are very nice things.  I feel very strangely.”

“How do you feel, young man?”

“Very much afraid.”

“Afraid, at what?  At the Flaming Tinman?  Don’t be afraid of him.  He won’t come back, and if he did, he shouldn’t touch you in this state:  I’d fight him for you.  But he won’t come back, so you needn’t be afraid of him.”

“I’m not afraid of the Flaming Tinman.”

“What, then, are you afraid of?”

“The evil one?”

“The evil one?” said the girl:  “where is he?”

“Coming upon me.”

“Never heed,” said the girl:  “I’ll stand by you.”

CHAPTER VI.—­A FOAMING DRAUGHT—­THE MAGIC OF ALE.

The kitchen of the public-house was a large one, and many people were drinking in it; there was a confused hubbub of voices.

I sat down on a bench behind a deal table, of which there were three or four in the kitchen; presently a bulky man, in a green coat, of the Newmarket cut, and without a hat, entered, and observing me, came up, and in rather a gruff tone cried, “Want anything, young fellow?”