as confused, and affords me little hope that she is yet awakened from her unhappy delusion.”
“In that case, sir, I see not why you should play the champion of a wench that will none of you, and incur the resentment of a favourite’s favourite, as dangerous a monster as ever a knight adventurer encountered in the old story books.”
“You do me wrong in the supposition, mine host—gross wrong,” said Tressilian; “I do not desire that Amy should ever turn thought upon me more. Let me but see her restored to her father, and all I have to do in Europe—perhaps in the world—is over and ended.”
“A wiser resolution were to drink a cup of sack, and forget her,” said the landlord. “But five-and-twenty and fifty look on those matters with different eyes, especially when one case of peepers is set in the skull of a young gallant, and the other in that of an old publican. I pity you, Master Tressilian, but I see not how I can aid you in the matter.”
“Only thus far, mine host,” replied Tressilian—“Keep a watch on the motions of those at the Place, which thou canst easily learn without suspicion, as all men’s news fly to the ale-bench; and be pleased to communicate the tidings in writing to such person, and to no other, who shall bring you this ring as a special token—look at it—it is of value, and I will freely bestow it on you.”
“Nay, sir,” said the landlord, “I desire no recompense—but it seems an unadvised course in me, being in a public line, to connect me in a
