George--Jervas, lead me hence!"
Now as I stood, my eyes smarting with tears evoked by her last words,
my uncles tendered their arms with grave and ready courtesy, but in
that moment as I watched in a silent grief conjured up by my aunt's
last words, the keen glance of uncle Jervas met mine for one brief
moment and, in that space, his right eyelid flickered unmistakably;
then uncle George coughed explosively and at the same instant tossed
something to the foot of a tree; coming thither, I took up a
well-filled leathern wallet and a heavy purse; with these, my uncles'
parting benefactions in my hands, what wonder that I saw their
retreating forms through a mist of tears.
CHAPTER XXVIII
EXEMPLIFYING THAT CLOTHES DO MAKE THE MAN
"The Rubicon," said the Tinker, "the Rubicon is a river as no Roman
ever crossed without doo thought. 'The die,' as Julius Caesar remarked
when he crossed it, 'the die is cast!' Friend Peregrine, you ha' sent
away your lady aunt a-grieving, poor ma'm, and your fine gentlemen
uncles likewise, and consequently what I asks is--what now?"
"Clothes!" said I. "This afternoon let us drive into Tonbridge, find a
tailor, get rid of these atrocities and afterwards sup at some cosy
inn."
"Your gentlefolk brought you money then?"
"They did," said I, and laying by my platter, I drew from my breeches
pockets the wallet of my uncle Jervas and uncle George's purse.
"Ha!" exclaimed the Tinker, rubbing his long chin with the haft of his
knife.
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