As it described a greater arc its activity was
proportionate. His grey and restless eyes followed the merchant's track
with unwearied fidelity; yet was he a man full sparing of words--the
ever ready "Anon, master," being the chief burden of his replications.
It was like the troll of an old ballad--a sort of inveterate drawl
tripping unwittingly from the tongue.
The sun was just peeping through the long dim casement as Cornelius
stepped over the threshold of his sanctuary. In it lay hidden the
mysteries of many a goodly tome, more precious in his eyes than the
rarest and richest that Dee's library could boast. No mean value,
inasmuch as this celebrated scholar and mathematician, who was lately
appointed warden of the college, had the most costly store of
book-furniture that individual ever possessed.
"Good morrow, Dodge."
The pen was twice nibbed ere the usual rejoinder.
"Are the camlets arrived from the country?" inquired the merchant.
"Anon, master--this forenoon may be."
"Is the accompt against Anthony Hardcastle discharged?"
"No," ejaculated the grim fixture.
"And where is the piece of Genoa velvet Dame Margery looked out
yesterday for her mistress's wedding-suit? I do bethink me it is a good
ell too long at the measure.
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