‘A singular old gentleman!  A very singular old gentleman, that!’ Raikes observed, following an idea that had been occupying him.  ’We did wrong to miss him.  We ought to have waylaid him in the morning.  Never miss a chance, Harrington.’

‘What chance?’ Evan inquired.

‘Those old gentlemen are very odd,’ Jack pursued, ’very strange.  He wouldn’t have judged me by my attire.  Admetus’ flocks I guard, yet am a God!  Dress is nothing to those old cocks.  He’s an eccentric.  I know it; I can see it.  He ’s a corrective of Cudford, who is abhorrent to my soul.  To give you an instance, now, of what those old boys will do—­I remember my father taking me, when I was quite a youngster, to a tavern he frequented, and we met one night just such an old fellow as this; and the waiter told us afterwards that he noticed me particularly.  He thought me a very remarkable boy—­predicted great things.  For some reason or other my father never took me there again.  I remember our having a Welsh rarebit there for supper, and when the waiter last night mentioned a rarebit, ’gad he started up before me.  I gave chase into my early youth.  However, my father never took me to meet the old fellow again.  I believe it lost me a fortune.’

Evan’s thoughts were leaping to the cricket-field, or he would have condoled with Mr. Raikes for a loss that evidently afflicted him still.

Now, it must be told that the lady’s-maid of Mrs. Andrew Cogglesby, borrowed temporarily by the Countess de Saldar for service at Beckley Court, had slept in charge of the Countess’s boxes at the Green Dragon:  the Countess having told her, with the candour of high-born dames to their attendants, that it would save expense; and that, besides, Admiral Combleman, whom she was going to see, or Sir Perkins Ripley (her father’s old friend), whom she should visit if Admiral Combleman was not at his mansion-both were likely to have full houses, and she could not take them by storm.  An arrangement which left her upwards of twelve hours’ liberty, seemed highly proper to Maria Conning, this lady’s-maid, a very demure young person.  She was at her bed-room window, as Evan passed up the courtyard of the inn, and recognized him immediately.  ’Can it be him they mean that’s the low tradesman?’ was Maria’s mysterious exclamation.  She examined the pair, and added:  ’Oh, no.  It must be the tall one they mistook for the small one.  But Mr. Harrington ought not to demean himself by keeping company with such, and my lady should know of it.’

My lady, alighting from the Lymport coach, did know of it, within a few minutes after Evan had quitted the Green Dragon, and turned pale, as high-born dames naturally do when they hear of a relative’s disregard of the company he keeps.

‘A tailor, my lady!’ said scornful Maria; and the Countess jumped and complained of a pin.

‘How did you hear of this, Conning?’ she presently asked with composure.