valuable information he had received, and promised to carry out the injunctions he had given him. If ever the strange gentleman's business should lead him to visit Cumberland—though, Mr. Cursty said with a half laugh, there weren't much call for the likes of him in that "wharter of t' warl"—still, if ever he should be coming towards Buttermere, he could only say there would always be a bed and a dish of sugar'd cruds and a hearty welcome for him at Hassness.
The hospitable Cursty had scarcely finished extracting a pledge from the strange gentleman to come and spend a month with him at the earliest opportunity, when the pace of the carriages began to slacken, the panting of the engine ceased, the break was heard grating on the wheels, sending forth that peculiar odour which invariably precedes the stoppage of all railway-trains. The whistle sounded—and amidst the ringing of bells, the Sandboys and their companion reached the Preston station.
Here the strange gentleman having slipped on again the several articles of disguise with which he had dispensed on entering, shook Mr. and Mrs. Cursty violently by the hands, and promising to call and see them some time or other, he made an extremely low bow to the ladies, and in a few minntes was lost in the crowd.
On his departure the conversation of Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys related solely to the agreeable manner and vast experience of their late companion. Cursty's enthusiasm knew no bounds. His darling Aggy, however, was a little more circumspect in her praise, and did not hesitate to confess—that there was something about t' gentleman she didn't half like—she couldn't exactly tell what; but there was something so peculiar in his manner, that for her part, she was not quite so much taken with him. He was a very pleasant, agreeable man enough, but still—she could not say why—all she knew was—she did not like him. And then, as the discussion on their late companion's merits rose rather high, she begged her husband to mark her words, for she felt convinced in her mind—indeed, she had a certain kind of a presentiment—a strange kind of a feeling that she couldn't describe—and it was no use Cursty's talking—but her impression was—and she hoped Mr. Sandboys would bear it well in mind—that they should hear of that gentleman again some fine day; and that was all she wished to say about the matter.
With this slight discussion to enliven the tedium of the journey, the distance between Preston and Manchester passed so quickly, that when the collector at the Manchester station called for the tickets, Mr. Sandboys could not help expressing his astonishment at the rapidity of their travelling.
"Now, sir, if you please—quick as you can—show your tickets;—tickets—tickets."
Mr. Sandboys instinctively thrust his hand to the bottom of his trowsers' pocket, but then, remembering that the red cotton bag in which he had securely deposited the precious vouchers had been shifted to his fob, he began a vain attempt to fish up his money-bag,
