He was tapster's boy here in this blessed house for a quarter of a year; and between misreckonings, miscarriages, mistakes, and misdemeanours, had he dwelt with me for three months longer, I might have pulled down sign, shut up house, and given the devil the key to keep." "You would be sorry, after all," continued the traveller, "were I to tell you poor Mike Lambourne was shot at the head of his regiment at the taking of a sconce near Maestricht ?" "Sorry!--it would be the blithest news I ever heard of him, since it would ensure me he was not hanged.

But let him pass--I doubt his end will never do such credit to his friends.

Were it so, I should say"-- (taking another cup of sack)--"Here's God rest him, with all my heart." "Tush, man," replied the traveller, "never fear but you will have credit by your nephew yet, especially if he be the Michael Lambourne whom I knew, and loved very nearly, or altogether, as well as myself.

Can you tell me no mark by which I could judge whether they be the same ?" "Faith, none that I can think of," answered Giles Gosling, "unless that our Mike had the gallows branded on his left shoulder for stealing a silver caudle-cup from Dame Snort of Hogsditch." "Nay, there you lie like a knave, uncle," said the stranger, slipping aside his ruff; and turning down the sleeve of his doublet from his neck and shoulder; "by this good day, my shoulder is as unscarred as thine own.
"What, Mike, boy--Mike!" exclaimed the host;--"and is it thou, in good earnest?
Nay, I have judged so for this half-hour; for I knew no other person would have ta'en half the interest in thee.

But, Mike, an thy shoulder be unscathed as thou sayest, thou must own that Goodman Thong, the hangman, was merciful in his office, and stamped thee with a cold iron." "Tush, uncle--truce with your jests.