"A gentleman that came to uncle, miss." "A gentleman that came to your uncle; well, go on." "I suppose he wrote the letter, but I'm not sure; and uncle gave me the letter to put it where you might see it." "Oh, then, a gentleman, you say, gave your uncle this letter, and your uncle gave it to you to bring to me. Is that it?" "Uncle gave me the letter, but I dare say uncle will tell you all about it, and who the gentleman was." "Is your uncle come back?" "He comes back to-night, madam." "You're sure your uncle did not write the letter?" "La, miss! uncle write such a letter as that--and to a lady like you-- that would be odd." "Very odd, indeed!" replied Miss Melissa, who remained a minute or two in thought. "Well, my lad," said she at last, "I must and will know who has had the boldness to write this letter to me; and as your uncle knows, you will bring him here to-morrow, that I may inquire about it; and let him take care that he tells the truth." "Yes, miss; I will tell him as soon as he comes home. I hope you are not angry with me, miss; I did not think there was any harm in putting into the book such a nice clean letter as that." "No, I am not angry with you; your uncle is more to blame; I shall expect him to-morrow about this time. You may go now." CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. IN WHICH THE TINKER MAKES LOVE. Joey made his obeisance, and departed as if he was frightened, Miss Melissa watched him: at last she thought, "Tinker or no tinker? that is the question. No tinker, for a cool hundred, as my father would say; for, no tinker's boy, no tinker; and that is no tinker's boy. How clever of him to say that the letter was given him by a gentleman! Now I can send to him to interrogate him, and have an interview without any offence to my feelings; and if he is disguised, as I feel confident that he is, I shall soon discover it." Miss Melissa Mathews did not sleep that night; and at the time appointed she was sitting on the bench, with all the assumed dignity of a newly-made magistrate. Spikeman and Joey were not long before they made their appearance. Spikeman was particularly clean and neat, although he took care to wear the outward appearance of a tinker; his hands were, by continual washing in hot water, very white, and he had paid every attention to his person, except in wearing his rough and sullied clothes. "My boy tells me, miss, that you wish to speak to me," said Spikeman, assuming the air of a vulgar man. "I did, friend," said Melissa, after looking at Spikeman for a few minutes; "a letter has been brought here clandestinely, and your boy confesses that he received it from you; now, I wish to know how you came by it." "Boy, go away to a distance," said Spikeman, very angrily; "if you can't keep one secret, at all events you shall not hear any more." Joey retreated, as had been arranged between them.