WYLDER'S HAJVD.
287
significant whisper, " don't cross him, and he'll not stay
long."
"You're here, a scribe," murmured Uncle Lome,
looking upon Tom Wealdon.
"Aye, sir, a scribe and a Pharisee, a Sadducee, and a
publican, and a priest, and a Levite," said the functionary,
with a wink at Lake. "Thomas Wealdon, sir; happy to
see you, sir, so well and strong, and likely to enlighten
Ahe religious world for many a day to come. It's a long
mcne, sir, since I had the honor of seeing you; and I'm
■ways, of course, at your command."
M " Pshaw!" said Lake, angrily.
^The Town Clerk pressed his arm with a significant side
nod and a wink, which seemed to say, "I understand
him; can't you let me manage him?"
The%ld man did not seem to hear what they said; but
his tall figure rose up, and he extended the fingers of his
left hand close to the candle for a few seconds, and then
held them tip to his eyes, gazing on his finger-tips, with a
horrified sort of scrutiny, as if he saw signs and portents
gathered there, and then the same cadaverous grin broke
out over his features.
"Mark Wylder is in an evil plight," said he.
"Is he?" said Lake, with a sly scoff, though he seem-
ed to be a good deal scared. "We hear no complaints,
however, and fancy he must be tolerably comfortable not-
withstanding.
"You know where he is," said Uncle Lome.
"Aye, in Italy; everyone knows that," answered
Lake.
"In Italy," said the old man, reflectively, as if trying
to gather up his ideas, "Italy. Oh ! yes, Vallombrosa —
aye, Italy, I know it well."
"So do we, sir; thank you for the information," said
Lake, who nevertheless appeared strangely uneasy.
■