With his white napkin gracefully arranged over his left arm, his velvet

cap laid aside for the moment, and his best silver flagon in his right

hand, mine host walked up to the solitary guest whom he mentioned, and

thereby turned upon him the eyes of the assembled company.

He was a man aged betwixt twenty-five and thirty, rather above the

middle size, dressed with plainness and decency, yet bearing an air of

ease which almost amounted to dignity, and which seemed to infer that

his habit was rather beneath his rank. His countenance was reserved and

thoughtful, with dark hair and dark eyes; the last, upon any momentary

excitement, sparkled with uncommon lustre, but on other occasions

had the same meditative and tranquil cast which was exhibited by his

features. The busy curiosity of the little village had been employed to

discover his name and quality, as well as his business at Cumnor;

but nothing had transpired on either subject which could lead to its

gratification. Giles Gosling, head-borough of the place, and a steady

friend to Queen Elizabeth and the Protestant religion, was at one time

inclined to suspect his guest of being a Jesuit, or seminary priest, of

whom Rome and Spain sent at this time so many to grace the gallows

in England. But it was scarce possible to retain such a prepossession

against a guest who gave so little trouble, paid his reckoning so

regularly, and who proposed, as it seemed, to make a considerable stay

at the bonny Black Bear.

"Papists," argued Giles Gosling, "are a pinching, close-fisted race,

and this man would have found a lodging with the wealthy squire at

Bessellsey, or with the old Knight at Wootton, or in some other of their

Roman dens, instead of living in a house of public entertainment, as

every honest man and good Christian should. Besides, on Friday he stuck

by the salt beef and carrot, though there were as good spitch-cocked

eels on the board as ever were ta'en out of the Isis."

Honest Giles, therefore, satisfied himself that his guest was no Roman,

and with all comely courtesy besought the stranger to pledge him in

a draught of the cool tankard, and honour with his attention a small

collation which he was giving to his nephew, in honour of his return,

and, as he verily hoped, of his reformation. The stranger at first shook

his head, as if declining the courtesy; but mine host proceeded to

urge him with arguments founded on the credit of his house, and the

construction which the good people of Cumnor might put upon such an

unsocial humour.




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