fast? I know of a tavern where the wine is of sufficient goodness-the very soul of the Spanish grape; the capons fat, and frothed to a nicety." So saying, without waiting a reply, he passed his arm through that of his companion. Quitting the bridge by the north gate, they proceeded in the direction of Bucklersbury; whilst Studley and the two brothers, after exchanging a few more words, sauntered in the opposite direction, and were soon discussing the merits of a substantial sirloin, with a goodly tankard, in the common room of a noted tavern in Pepper Alley, not far from the parish church of St. Margaret's, Southwark. 13 CHAPTER II. "The diligence of trade and noiseful gain, The ghosts of traitors from the bridge descend, About the fire into a dance they bend, And sing their sabbath-notes with feeble voice." Dryden. THE Tabard Inn, one of the most ancient in London, was justly celebrated for the strength of its ale, the goodness of its viands, and above all for a merry host, who charged moderately, laughed heartily, and never refused to assist a guest in doing justice to his own liquors. From its proximity to the river this hostel was a favourite resort, not only of bargemen and lightermen, but even of the inferior retainers of many a powerful noble, who loved to parade their laced jerkins and rich livery-cloaks, swaggering and ruffling it before the admiring eyes of their less gorgeously attired companions. The common room of this inn was long, low, and spacious enough to accommodate even the train of the Abbot, of Hide, who generally sojourned within the walls of the Tabard when his affairs called him to London. Its raftered roof was black with age; its wainscoat of dark oak, quaintly carved; whilst, notwithstanding the season, a cheerful fire blazed on the ample hearth at either end of the chamber. On the present occasion, the jolly landlord, armed with cup and tankard, bustled too and fro, whilst busy tapsters flitted about in every direction, eager to multiply themselves, if that were possible, in order to satisfy the not always reasonable demands of their numerous guests. But the ever-ready jest of the master, and the officious zeal of his satellites, fell this morning on inattentive ears; some all-pervading interest seemed to occupy the carousers at the Tabard, of which Mark Studley and his two companions formed the focus. "It must be confessed," said the jovial skinner, setting down the capacious pot which he had just drained, and wiping the froth from his lips with the sleeve of his jerkin, "nothing comes up to a hearty meal, if you would give a man a stomach for fighting. Hubert and I must to the Pope's Head in Cornhill, where Master Lincoln expects us before ten of the clock; and do you, comrades, fail not to meet us at the market there, if you would not the foreign butchers filled their pouches with the profit. Meanwhile drink to the health of the worthy broker, and here is wherewith to pay the reckoning." So saying, he detached from his girdle a well-filled purse, which, placing in the hands of the elder Betts, he turned away, closely followed by Hubert, as a hearty cheer, making the walls of the Tabard ring again, convinced him of the complete success which had attended this last experiment. Silently, and at a brisk rate, the companions crossed the bridge; nor did they slacken their pace until, having threaded the mazes of the market, they reached the Tun, formerly a prison, but, in the year 1401, converted into a cistern for water, conveyed by leaden pipes from the brook of Tybourn, and better known as the "conduit upon Cornhill." Over this reservoir, which was strongly secured by oaken planks, was erected a huge timber building called the cage, probably more dreaded than its predecessor by the peacebreaker and minor offender, inasmuch as it contained a pair of stocks, and was surmounted by a pillory, which, having several iron circles, or carcans, was capable of accommodating more than one person at a time. "Heaven forbid you or I should feel the weight of such a collar before night, Mark!" exclaimed young Betts. "Mind you not that Darby and Simpson, for a less offence, were made a show to the city, riding about the wards with their faces to their nags' tails, and their heads adorned with paper mitres, before they were exalted to yonder disgraceful eminence?" "Nay, Hubert, lad; ours is hanging, or a free pardon. Soh! here we are at St. Michael's Cross, and it lacketh a quarter and more to the time named by Master Lincoln." They paused for a few moments, when Hubert, who had been gazing intently towards the bell-tower of the magnificent church, near the cloister of which they were standing, exclaimed solemnly, "Now would I not for a silken doublet, though broidered with silver to boot, have been one of the six ringers to whom the foul fiend appeared on St. James's night, scaring them until they were as dead men, and "Canst thou credit such old-world tales?" broke in Studley, though in a tone which proved him not altogether free from the credulity he condemned. 66 Nay, the manner of it was this, as I have heard it told by Thomas Stowe, the tailor, scores of times. Amongst the ringers of St. Michael's, some fifty years ago, was one Simon North, a graceless knave, who spent his days fighting and gaming, his nights at the vintry, yet was ever amongst the earliest at the gates of St. John's Priory, defrauding the poor of their bread and drink, and brawling for the largest portion of the warm meat which was served out every morning. At length an account of his misdoings reached the ears of the good almoner of the Knights of St. John, who hastened to tax him therewith; when Simon, having before his eyes the fear of losing his dole, and thereby abridging his means of riotous living, swore roundly by the blessed St. John of Jerusalem it was all a base calumny to defraud him of their charity, challenging the devil himself to prove he spake aught but truth. This was on St. James's day; that night, Simon, as was his wont, went with the others about eight of the clock to ring the peals; and, strange to say, the bells, which bear the best repute of any in London for harmony, sweetness, and tone, sounded with a jar as though they had been cracked. Whilst the ringers marvelled what this might mean, there arose a mighty tempest of thunder and lightning, in the midst of which the fiend himself entered at the south window, flitting towards the north, where the glorious archangel himself is painted. At this ugly sight, the men with one accord fell flat on their faces, the bells meanwhile ringing a loud peal, though the ropes were pulled by no mortal hands; but when they ceased, and the ringers came to themselves, they found the stones of the north window razed and scratched with the mark of the evil one imprinted, as though it had been a lion's claw, and there it remains to this day; I have seen and probed the holes many a time; but for Simon North,-the fright sobered him, I warrant,-none of his comrades would again enter the tower in his company, so he was fain to do penance for his past misdeeds, though men did say his end was hastened, for he died in less than a twelvemonth." "Now would Master Sherwin jibe and jeer at thy tale (which methink'st thou tellest gracefully), and talk of natural causes," said Studley; "yet natural or not, it was to my poor mind a manifest judgment of Heaven on the sinner, no less than a terrible example to those who had heard his blasphemy. Thy good companionship, lad," he added, "has shortened the road to the Pope's Head, though, I fear me, Master Lincoln will wax impatient." The Pope's Head tavern was a large stone house facing Lombard Street, with a range of windows in the rear of what had originally been a royal palace, though now divided into divers tenements, bearing on their fronts three leopards passant guardant, the arms of England before its third Edward quartered with them the fleur-de-lys of France. For the convenience of wayfarers, who might otherwise have to make a circuit of some extent, a footpath passed through the edifice leading from the High Street, Cornhill, to the principal entrance of the hostelry in Lombard Street; which passage occasioned no small accession of business to mine host, renowned in the wards for his dainty cheer, his rivalry with the landlord of Gerard's Inn, and his undisguised antipathy to aliens. Notwithstanding their utmost speed, as Studley and Hubert issued from the narrow passage the church of St. Michael's warned them they had exceeded the hour of their appointment. Losing no time, they ascended a broad oak staircase with richly-carved balustrades terminating in a long gallery; to the right of this was a door opening into the room, which Studley knew to be the one usually |