Or it so happened that Mr.Raikes met the old gentleman at a tavern, and, by the exercise of a signal dexterity, relieved him from a bone in his throat, and reluctantly imparted his address on issuing from the said tavern.

Or perhaps it was a lonely highway where the old gentleman walked, and John Raikes had his name in the papers for a deed of heroism, nor was man ungrateful.

Since he had eaten up his uncle, this old gentleman of his dreams walked in town and country-only, and alas! Mr.Raikes could never encounter him in the flesh.

The muscles of his face, therefore, are no index to the real feelings of the youth when he had thoroughly mastered the contents of the letter, and reflected that the dream of his luck--his angelic old gentleman--had gone and wantonly bestowed himself upon Evan Harrington, instead of the expectant and far worthier John Raikes.

Worthier inasmuch as he gave him credence for existing long ere he knew of him and beheld him manifest.
Raikes retreated to the vacant parlour of the Green Dragon, and there Evan found him staring at the unfolded letter, his head between his cramped fists, with a contraction of his mouth.