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"Your red-headed chap is a good man at the helm," said Riggs to me. "He's got the wheel now, and, with the other two, I'll have good quartermasters. The chinkies are poor steerers." "Meester Trenholm ees breeng a sailor, too?" demanded Trego, turning his black eyes on me in a manner that I could not understand. "He brought my baggage aboard," said I, somewhat annoyed.
And we went, and wondered, afterwards, what particularly tender guardian angels kept close company with our Butterfly Man. Then occurred the great event which put Meester Fleent in a place apart in the estimation of all Appleboro, forever settled his status among the mill-hands and the "hickeys," and incidentally settled a tormenting doubt of himself in his own mind.
Soon she sank down again, the strange medley of thought growing more and more confused in her bewildered brain. What a strange lip the meester had! How the stork's nest upon the roof seemed to rustle and whisper down to her! How bright those knives were in the leather case brighter perhaps than the silver skates. If she had but worn her new jacket, she would not shiver so.
But it was evident Lilly was not at the house. Aaron wished more than ever he had not come, but had gone to an hotel. He made out that the woman was asking him for his name "Meester ? Meester ?" she kept saying, with a note of interrogation. "Sisson. Mr. Sisson," said Aaron, who was becoming impatient. And he found a visiting card to give her.
"It might be, Raff," persisted Dame Brinker timidly, "that the meester knows somebody in that country, though I'm told they are mostly savages over there. If he could get the watch to the Boomphoffens with the poor lad's message, it would be a most blessed thing." "Tut, vrouw, why pester the good meester, and dying men and women wanting him everywhere? How do ye know ye have the true name?"
The sheep gave a second bleat, and then a third, and Rosythe, red in the face and apparently choking, turned and fled to the corridor. Madame Planchet drew me apart and said: "Meester Billee, tell me something. Ees eet true that thees gentleman ees a healer? He takes away the pains?" "He did it for me," I answered. "He ees vairy handsome, eh, Meester Billee?" "Yes, that is true."
Vy, the boys hereabout say that you and Meester Tomlinson, and this 'ere poor devil in quod, vere the finest gemmen in town; and, Lord, for to think of your ciwility to a pitiful ragmerchant, like I!" "Ah!" said Ned, gravely, "there are sad principles afloat now.
"Nice-a man, Meester Hama." "Is he?" says I. "Well, you wait here until I see him about this. Wait understand?" With that I skips upstairs, and explains the mystery of our bein' mobbed. "It's a whiskered freak on the top floor they're after," says I. "Swifty, run up and get that Ham and Eggs gent. I'm yearnin' for speech with him.
"Holy smoke!" exclaimed the critic. "I sure never did!" At that moment one of the doors was opened. Rosythe turned his eyes. "Ah, Madame Planchet!" he cried. "Come tell us about it!" A stoutish woman out of a Paris fashion-plate came trotting across the room, smiling in welcome: "Meester Rosythe!"
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