“Your servant, Mr. Wolfe, your servant. I think I had the pleasure of hearing you a long time ago at the Westminster election: very eloquent you were, sir, very!” Wolfe looked up for an instant at the face of the speaker, and, not recognizing it, turned abruptly away, threw open the window, and, leaning out, appeared desirous of escaping from all further intrusion on the part of the stranger; but that gentleman was by no means of a nature easily abashed. “Fine day, sir, for the time of year; very fine day, indeed. October is a charming month, as my lamented friend and customer, the late Lady Waddilove, was accustomed to say. Talking of that, sir, as the winter is now approaching, do you not think it would be prudent, Mr. Wolfe, to provide yourself with an umbrella? I have an admirable one which I might dispose of: it is from the effects of the late Lady Waddilove. ‘Brown,’ said her ladyship, a short time before her death, ‘Brown, you are a good creature; but you ask too much for the Dresden vase. We have known each other a long time; you must take fourteen pounds ten shillings, and you may have that umbrella in the corner into the bargain.’ Mr. Wolfe, the bargain was completed, and the umbrella became mine: it may now be yours.” And so saying, Mr. Brown, depositing his saddle-bag on the ground, proceeded to unfold an umbrella of singular antiquity and form,--a very long stick, tipped with ivory, being surmounted with about a quarter of a yard of sea-green silk, somewhat discoloured by time and wear. “It is a beautiful article, sir,” said Mr. Brown, admiringly surveying it: “is it not?” “Pshaw!” said Wolfe, impatiently, “what have I to do with your goods and chattels? Go and palm the cheatings and impositions of your pitiful trade upon some easier gull.” “Cheatings and impositions, Mr. Wolfe!” cried the slandered Brown, perfectly aghast; “I would have you to know, sir, that I have served the first families in the country, ay, and in this county too, and never had such words applied to me before. Sir, there was the late Lady Waddilove, and the respected Mrs. Minden, and her nephew the ambassador, and the Duchess of Pugadale, and Mr. Mordaunt of Mordaunt Court, poor gentleman, though he is poor no more,” and Mr. Brown proceeded to enumerate the long list of his customers. Now, we have stated that Wolfe, though he had never known the rank of Mordaunt, was acquainted with his real name, and, as the sound caught his ear, he muttered, “Mordaunt, Mordaunt, ay, but not my former acquaintance,--not him who was called Glendower. No, no: the man cannot mean him.” “Yes, sir, but I do mean him,” cried Brown, in a rage. “I do mean that Mr. Glendower, who afterwards took another name, but whose real appellation is Mr. Algernon Mordaunt of Mordaunt Court, in this county, sir.” “What description of man is he?” said Wolfe; “rather tall, slender, with an air and mien like a king’s, I was going to say, but better than a king’s, like a freeman’s?”