"Nay, my very good friend," said the first speaker, with positive
though not disrespectful earnestness, "that may be all very fine for
you, who have a constitution like a horse; but I am quite a--what call
you it--an invalid, eh? and have a devilish cough ever since I have
been in this d--d country; beg your pardon, no offence to it; so I
shall just step under cover of this scaffolding for a few minutes, and
if you like the rain so much, my very good friend, why, there is
plenty of room in the lane to--(ugh! ugh! ugh!) to enjoy it."

As the speaker ended, the dim light, just faintly glimmering at the
entrance of the friendly shelter, was obscured by his shadow, and
presently afterwards his companion, joining him, said,--

"Well, if it must be so; but how can you be fit to brave all the
perils of our scheme, when you shrink, like a palsied crone, from the
sprinkling of a few water-drops?"

"A few water-drops, my very good friend," answered the other, "a few--
what call you them, ay, water-falls rather; (ugh! ugh!) but let me
tell you, my brother citizen, that a man may not like to get his skin
wet with waters and would yet thrust his arm up to the very elbow in
blood! (ugh! ugh!)"

"The devil!" mentally ejaculated Mr. Brown, who at the word "scheme"
had advanced one step from his retreat, but who now at the last words
of the intruder drew back as gently as a snail into his shell; and
although his person was far too much enveloped in shade to run the
least chance of detection, yet the honest broker began to feel a
little tremor vibrate along the chords of his thrilling frame, and a