So saying, he pulled out a purse of gold indifferently well filled, the

sight of which produced a visible effect upon the company. Some shook

their heads and whispered to each other, while one or two of the less

scrupulous speedily began to recollect him as a school-companion,

a townsman, or so forth. On the other hand, two or three grave,

sedate-looking persons shook their heads, and left the inn, hinting

that, if Giles Gosling wished to continue to thrive, he should turn his

thriftless, godless nephew adrift again, as soon as he could. Gosling

demeaned himself as if he were much of the same opinion, for even the

sight of the gold made less impression on the honest gentleman than it

usually doth upon one of his calling.

"Kinsman Michael," he said, "put up thy purse. My sister's son shall be

called to no reckoning in my house for supper or lodging; and I reckon

thou wilt hardly wish to stay longer where thou art e'en but too well

known."

"For that matter, uncle," replied the traveller, "I shall consult my own

needs and conveniences. Meantime I wish to give the supper and sleeping

cup to those good townsmen who are not too proud to remember Mike

Lambourne, the tapster's boy. If you will let me have entertainment for

my money, so; if not, it is but a short two minutes' walk to the Hare

and Tabor, and I trust our neighbours will not grudge going thus far

with me."

"Nay, Mike," replied his uncle, "as eighteen years have gone over thy

head, and I trust thou art somewhat amended in thy conditions, thou

shalt not leave my house at this hour, and shalt e'en have whatever

in reason you list to call for. But I would I knew that that purse of

thine, which thou vapourest of, were as well come by as it seems well

filled."

"Here is an infidel for you, my good neighbours!" said Lambourne, again

appealing to the audience. "Here's a fellow will rip up his kinsman's

follies of a good score of years' standing. And for the gold, why, sirs,

I have been where it grew, and was to be had for the gathering. In

the New World have I been, man--in the Eldorado, where urchins play

at cherry-pit with diamonds, and country wenches thread rubies for

necklaces, instead of rowan-tree berries; where the pantiles are made of

pure gold, and the paving-stones of virgin silver."

"By my credit, friend Mike," said young Laurence Goldthred, the cutting

mercer of Abingdon, "that were a likely coast to trade to. And what may

lawns, cypruses, and ribands fetch, where gold is so plenty?"




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