He was jerking his head aside to where a man whom we have known in other scenes was pushing his way through the crowd.
"Don't know; no one knows, seemingly," answered the politician whose penetration had solved the mystery of the proclamation against vice and all loose livers.
"He's been in Lancaster this more nor a week, hasn't he ?" "Believe he has; and so has the little withered fellow that haunts him like his shadow.

Don't seem over-welcome company, so far as I can see." "Where's the little one now ?" "I reckon he's nigh about somewhere." Ralph Ray borrowed a link from a boy who was near, and stood before the paper that was posted upon the Cross.

Just then a short, pale-faced, elderly man, with quick eyes beneath shaggy brows, elbowed his way between the people and came up close at Ray's side.
It was clearly not his object to read the proclamation, for after a glance at it his eyes were turned towards Ralph's face.

If he had hoped to catch the light of an expression there he was disappointed.
Ralph read the proclamation without changing a muscle of his countenance.

He was returning the link to its owner, when the little man reached out his long finger, and, touching the paper as it hung on the Cross, looked up into Ralph's eyes with a cunning leer, and said, "Unco' gude, eh ?" Ralph made no reply.