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Robin immediately recognised the stranger as the old Jew, Manasseh Ben Israel, whom he had seen at Sir Willmott Burrell's. "Excuse me, I pray you, for a few moments, good Rabbi," observed the merchant, who was now occupied in entering the number, size, and quality of the pearls in a large book.
"Is Sir Willmott Burrell within?" inquired the stranger, letting fall the cloak that had been closely muffled round his face: he spoke, however, in so foreign an accent, that it was a moment or two before Robin could reply.
The only person in the apartment was Sir Robert Cecil: he was leaning, in the very attitude in which we first met him, against the high and dark chimney-piece of marble; but, oh, how altered! His hand trembled with emotion as he held it to Sir Willmott, who took it with that air of easy politeness and cordiality of manner he could so well assume.
"I did hope, sir, that you would have left Cecil Place before this; Sir Willmott Burrell will, I am certain, arrive within an hour; and you know it is the Skipper's earnest desire that you should not meet." "Robin, you told me all this but a little time past; and I know not why I am to hear it again. I have nought to fear from this Burrell."
Sir Willmott briefly apologised for his travel-worn and soiled habiliments, and displayed a due portion of surprise and indignation at being torn from his bride in the midst of the marriage ceremony.
"Ah, Sir Willmott! you are always wise, Sir Willmott; truly it would be ill coming on my own account, seeing that I had no business of my own to bring me, therefore why should I come? and even if I had, Dapple Dumpling travels so slowly." "This trifling is impertinent," exclaimed the knight angrily: "to your business."
"Spritsail and rigging!" interrupted the Buccaneer, whose enraged spirit sought some outlet, "No conventicle lingo here you forget your company, Sir Willmott. What of the Jew?" "You know his highness has strangely favoured this man, and that he is much thought of.
"Have you been to see Antony and Cleopatra?" asked Willmott of the stranger. "Yes," said the neighbour, "I went last night; many authors have treated the subject, and the version I saw last night was very pretty. I couldn't get a programme so I didn't see who " "I think my version," interrupted Willmott, with pride, "is admitted to be the best." "Ah! it is your version!" said the stranger.
"Sir Willmott Burrell," said Constantia to the knight, as he placed himself at her side, "my father is ill, and I cannot think upon what his malady may be with any thing like calmness; if what I dread is true, you will not force me from him." "Let the ceremony proceed, and, villain as I know you think me, I will not oppose any plan you may form for him," was Burrell's reply.
Why, look ye here now, if here isn't the head of that infernal Italian, Jeromio! and what I'm puzzled at is, that, first, it's wrapped in a napkin which I swear is one of them Holland ones I had o' the Skipper, and which he swore I could have made more of, had I took them on to London, instead of tiffing them at Maidstone; and this, outside it, is Sir Willmott Burrell's here's the crest broidered in goold: it's the finest cambric too," he added, relieving the muslin of its disgusting burden, and folding it with care, "and 'tis a pity it should be wasted on filthy flesh; so I'll take care of it ah! ah!
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