I went over to the hearth, and sitting down upon the settle, strove to get my position clear in my mind. That I was to be kept here until the rest of the conspirators should be assembled to try me, I understood well enough from Malpas his words; though of whom this council of treason should consist, I could not guess, except that Spurrier himself were one, and probably Skene. To escape I judged was impossible every way; partly because I was entered into the very home and chosen fortress of these plotters, of which the retiredness and neglected condition sufficiently secured it from the vigilance of the watch, and partly because I was a prize too valuable to be let slip. I considered that, besides Malpas, there were certainly others in that house, pledged to my ward, and answerable for me to him. Of Malpas I knew enough, as well from that the poet had told me of the thieves' Captain, how he killed out of hand any that dared disobey him, as also from my own observance of his behaviour, to stand in little doubt of the upshot of my business, how it would go. Nevertheless, I do not remember to have had any extraordinary fear; none, I know, comparable with that palsied terror I suffered when the mutineers came first upon the stairs in the night. Perhaps it was the knowledge that formerly when we were matched together I had come off happily, and left Malpas with so deep a thrust as even now he went limping withal. Immersed in such reflections, I did not note the passage of time, and was surprised when a little neat fellow, dressed like an ordinary tavern-server, entered, bearing a tray with cheese on and a loaf and a pot of good foaming ale. "Is it poisoned?" said I. "Poisoned? Sir--in this house!" cried he, starting back from the table. "Your worship must be ignorant whither you have come--to the _Fair Haven_ of Wapping, where all is sound provend and of the best come to port." "Is it so, indeed, Master Jocelin?" I returned, for I had immediately recognized, in this meek servitor, my old acquaintance of the hostelry over against Baynards Castle. "And how goes it with that fat lump of dough you were to set the yeast of your wit to work in?" But without the flicker of an eyelid, he answered me: "Jocelin is my name, sir; but as to your dough and your yeast, I understand nothing of your meaning." I could not withhold my laughter at his recovered innocence any better than I did before at the manifest lapse of it; and laughing still, I watched him put down my breakfast and depart. I fell to with a will after that, and having a wholesome fondness for food, had soon made an end of that meal, which, as Master Jocelin had said, was as good as needs be. The whiles I was eating, my mind wandered oddly away to old Peter Sprot, at home, whose sober admonition to me of the dietary I should follow in London, I had until now (I fear) given no thought to, but judged that I must even yet awhile delay the exact observance of it.