"I beg your pardon," I replied; "the waiter told me a friend of mine, one _Bagshawe_, who has given me the slip, was here, and I mistook you for him."
He courteously accepted my apology, quietly remarking at the same time that though his own name was Bristowe, he had, oddly enough, an uncle in the country of the same name as the person I had mistaken him for. Surely, thought I, this man is guiltless of the crime imputed to him; and yet---- At this moment the porter entered to announce the arrival of the gentleman I had sent for. I went out; and after giving the new-comer instructions not to lose sight of Mr. Bristowe, hastened home to make arrangements for the journey.
Transformed, by the aid of a flaxen wig, broad-brimmed hat, green spectacles, and a multiplicity of waistcoats and shawls, into a heavy and elderly, well-to-do personage, I took my way with Josiah Barnes--whom I had previously thoroughly drilled as to speech and behavior towards our companions--to the Saracen's Head a few minutes previous to the time for starting. We found Mr. Bristowe already seated; but the "three friends," I observed, were curiously looking on, desirous no doubt of ascertaining _who_ were to be their fellow-travelers before venturing to coop themselves up in a space so narrow, and, under certain circumstances, so difficult of egress. My appearance and that of Barnes--who, sooth to say, looked much more of a simpleton than he really was--quite reassured them, and in they jumped with confident alacrity. A few minutes afterwards the "all right" of the attending ostlers gave the signal for departure, and away we started.
A more silent, less social party I never assisted at. Whatever amount of "feast of reason" each or either of us might have silently enjoyed, not a drop of "flow of soul" welled up from one of the six insides. Every passenger seemed to have his own peculiar reasons for declining to display himself in either mental or physical prominence. Only one or two incidents--apparently unimportant, but which I carefully noted down in the tablet of my memory--occurred during the long, wearisome journey, till we stopped to dine at about thirty miles from Kendal; when I ascertained, from an over-heard conversation of one of the three with the coachman, that they intended to get down at a roadside tavern more than six miles on this side of that place.