"
"I thank you, Sir Mungo," said Nigel, who had not been able to forbear
some natural feelings of an unpleasant nature during this lively
detail,--"I have no doubt the exhibition will be a very engaging one
to you and the other spectators, whatever it may prove to the party
principally concerned."
"Vera engaging," answered Sir Mungo, "vera interesting--vera
interesting indeed, though not altogether so much so as an execution
for high treason. I saw Digby, the Winters, Fawkes, and the rest of
the gunpowder gang, suffer for that treason, whilk was a vera grand
spectacle, as well in regard to their sufferings, as to their
constancy in enduring."
"I am the more obliged to your goodness, Sir Mungo," replied Nigel,
"that has induced you, although you have lost the sight, to
congratulate me on my escape from the hazard of making the same
edifying appearance."
"As you say, my lord," answered Sir Mungo, "the loss is chiefly in
appearance. Nature has been very bountiful to us, and has given
duplicates of some organs, that we may endure the loss of one of them,
should some such circumstance chance in our pilgrimage. See my poor
dexter, abridged to one thumb, one finger, and a stump,--by the blow
of my adversary's weapon, however, and not by any carnificial knife.
Weel, sir, this poor maimed hand doth me, in some sort, as much
service as ever; and, admit yours to be taken off by the wrist, you
have still your left hand for your service, and are better off than
the little Dutch dwarf here about town, who threads a needle, limns,
writes, and tosses a pike, merely by means of his feet, without ever a
hand to help him.
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