"I had not seen him then, by the blessed Virgin I had not. I have never clap't eyes on the knave before!" "Now, mind, I warn you, so be careful." "I had only just got up, master; upon my word I had. I had not sufficient time to see anybody before you came and sent me down," and at the remembrance of that event he stepped back a pace or two in order that his previous experience might not be repeated. "You good-for-nothing rascal you!" broke out the landlord. "I stood and watched you myself, you were looking at the play. Get you gone, you idle vagabond," he added, in high dudgeon, "get you gone, and bring me up some stout cord." Glad to escape, Hugh quickly made his exit, having come off far more easily than at one time he feared. He reappeared in a short time, but with empty hands. "Well, where's the cord?" angrily enquired his master. "An it please you, sir," he replied, with a sly wink at Edmund, "I cannot find one strong enough to bear him." "You can't hang him yet; let him have a proper trial. There has been naught proved against him as yet," eagerly interrupted the baron, upon whom the lesson of his own trouble had not been lost. "He shall have a proper trial, my lord," exclaimed the landlord, "and to-morrow we shall have him in the pillory. The proprietor of the Cock Tavern is no hangman; I only wanted to bind him. Fetch me a piece of cord, you knave, and be quick, or I'll lay it about your back when it does come. Nay, you don't do that," he added, turning to Edmund, who was struggling to free himself; "not yet, my fine fellow. I have not done with thee yet," and by Sir Nicholas' timely help the prisoner was laid upon his back and then firmly secured with the cords which the ostler brought up a minute later. Leaving Edmund to bemoan his fate to himself, the party drew nigh to the window to witness the play afresh. They were just in time to witness the advent of another "silent scene." "Let me explain it to you," proffered the once more equable Boniface. "I know all about these things, they oft-times visit us here. I know every bit of this play as well as I know my creed." "Happen you may not be very familiar with the creed, though," laughed Sir Thomas. "Don't I know it, though?" he replied. "Sir Nicholas, if I might be pardoned for mentioning it, knows full well that every citizen of London knows the creed by heart." "Yes," assented the Lord Keeper, "everyone is compelled to attend some church at least once a Sabbath." "Or else they are smartly fined for staying away, as I was," ruefully added the landlord. "Yes, my lords, I know my creed full well." "Well, what's that fellow drinking now?" asked Sir George. "He's fainting, poor fellow," replied Sir Thomas. "Fainting," laughed the host, "fainting! not a bit of it. He is drinking some of my best Malmesey wine, that's what he is doing; only you must think he is taking poison. He is Gorboduc, the king." "Well?"