Guert Ten Eyck was profoundly impressed with what he had heard, in his visit to the fortune-teller. It affected his spirits, and, as will be seen, it influenced all his subsequent conduct. As for myself, I will not say that I totally disregarded what had passed; though the effect was greatly less on me, than it was on my friend. The Rev. Mr. Worden, however, treated the matter with great disdain. He declared that he had never before been so insulted in his life. The old hag, no doubt, had seen us all before, and recognised him. Profiting by a knowledge of this sort--that was very easily obtained in a place of the size of Albany--she had taken the occasion to make the most of the low gossip that had been circulated at his expense. “Loping Dominie, indeed,” he added; “as if any man would not run to save his life! You saw how it was with the river, Corny, when it once began to break up, and know that my escape was marvellous. I deserve as much credit for that retreat, boy, as Xenophon did for his retreat with the Ten Thousand. It is true, I had not thirty-four thousand, six hundred and fifty stadia to retreat over; but acts are to be estimated more by quality, than by quantity. The best things are always of an impromptu character; and, generally, they are on a small scale. Then, as for all you tell me about Guert; why, the hussy knew him--_must_ have known him, in a town like Albany, where the fellow has a character that identifies him with all sorts of fun and roguery. Jack, and Moses, too! Do you think the inspiration of even an evil spirit, or of forty thousand devils, would lead a fortune-teller to name any horse Moses? Jack might do, perhaps; but _Moses_ would never enter the head of even an imp! Remember, lad, Moses was the great law-giver of the Jews; and such a creature would be as apt to suppose a horse was named Confucius, as to suppose he was named Moses!” “I suppose the inspiration, as you call it, sir, would lead a clever fortune-teller to give things as they are; and to call the horses by their real names, let them be what they might.” “Ay, such inspiration as this miserable, old, wrinkled, impudent she-devil enjoys! Don't tell me, Corny; there is no such thing as fortune-telling; at least, nothing that can be depended on in all cases--and this is one of downright imposition. 'Loping Dominie,' forsooth!”