The four men went into the tavern, and soon Michael caught the sound of a drinking song. To get away from the noise Talbot and his page walked up the street. Presently they met the chief magistrate of St. Mary's, who recognized George Talbot, and greeted him, as was proper, by taking off his hat and making a low bow. "Things go badly here, Mr. Talbot," said the magistrate, with a shake of his head. "The captain of that ship yonder and the collectors laugh at Lord Baltimore. They do what they will with me and my men. They sit in the tavern all night, carousing, and then they take any boats they see or anything they like, and threaten the owners with their pistols and His Majesty's vengeance if they dare object. I've gone to see them about it. They snap their fingers at me and the governor." "I've seen the brutes," said Talbot. "I think I'd best take it on myself to explain the matter to them." "Be careful," warned the other. "They think themselves above all the law of the province." "By Heaven, they're not above me!" ejaculated Talbot. "I'll tell Rousby so to his face, and let him take the consequences!" Talbot and Michael went back to "The Bell and Anchor." The singing was still going on. The man and boy went into the tap-room, and ordered two cups of ale. They sat at a small table in a corner, some distance from where the four men were drinking, laughing, and singing. This was no time for Talbot to speak to them; their wits were too befuddled to pay any heed to what he might have to say. Presently the man and boy went up to their rooms. The noise of the revelers reached their ears. Talbot was very angry. He told Michael that he should have a settlement with Christopher Rousby the next day. So loud was the noise down-stairs that Michael had to pull the bedclothes up about his head in order to get to sleep. The next day was cold and dark--early winter. Talbot spent the morning going from house to house, questioning each owner as to unjust taxes that Rousby had collected, or any other injury the collector had done. He made a note of each complaint, and by noon he had a long list. The two dined at the tavern, and afterward Talbot engaged a fisherman to row them out to the royal ketch in the river. Rain was falling now, and a wind had sprung up. Whitecaps dotted the water. The fisherman rowed them to the ship, and Talbot and Michael climbed up the rope-ladder that hung down over the side. A sailor stepped up to them. "What do you want?" he asked. "I want to see the captain and Christopher Rousby," said Talbot. "I'm told that Rousby came out to the ship this morning." "Aye, Mr. Rousby's still here," said the sailor. "I am George Talbot," announced the other man, and, as if that were sufficient warrant for him to do as he chose, he walked across the deck and went down the companionway to the cabin. Michael kept close behind him.