The need seemed rather vague and extensive. Mr. Bannister worked his mouth about, and wondered who the stranger was and whether he had proper money. The girl Titsy began to giggle, and John Gore half wished that he had let Mrs. Winnie come and do the shopping for him, though her taste was crude and monstrous in many ways. “The fact is, sir, I have been made the guardian of a young gentlewoman, and I find that she is not clothed in the style she should be. Come here to the door, sir, to get out of range of that confounded girl of yours, whose manners might be mended. Now, Mr. Bannister, I have heard your shop well spoken of, and I want proper stuffs for a wardrobe. The—the—you know what I mean—I leave it to you; but show me your cloths and silks and ribbons.” Mr. Bannister was a man of tact, especially when a gentleman produced a purse. He turned Titsy and the old lady out of the shop, locked the door, and commenced business. John Gore was soon handling all manner of dainty stuffs: silks, brocades, cloth of red and green and blue, cottons, and the like. Mrs. Winnie had truly praised Mr. Bannister’s store of treasures, and the lover soon had all that he listed for the glorifying of his lady. Gold passed across the counter. Mr. Bannister had begun piling certain dainty linen aside with the mystery of a man of sentiment. “Can I send these by the carrier, sir?” “Thanks; my friend and I can take them, if you will cord the stuff so that we can carry it aboard our horses.” “Very good, sir, very good.” Mr. Jennifer came in at that moment, his hat on the back of his head and his face trying to kill a grin. Mr. Bannister glanced at him a little severely, and was more surprised to see the stranger own him as the friend he had referred to. “What be all these doings here, Mister Bannister, in Battle, hey?” “What doings may you be referring to, Mr. Jennifer?” “Doings! Why, there be old Squire Oxenham out on his gray ’oss on t’ Green, with a pair of sodgering fellows in red, and half a score yeomen, and Lawyer Gibbs, and a little gen’leman in a great wig, with a face like a raw side of beef.” Mr. Bannister had heard of none of these doings, and they went to the door, all three of them, and stood on the footway, looking toward the Green. Squire Oxenham was there, sure enough, with a couple of troopers and the yeomen—all mounted, and one or two more gentlemen to watch the mounted men, who were keeping their horses moving, all save Squire Oxenham, the lawyer, and the red-faced man in the big black periwig. “What be ut, Garge?” Mr. Jennifer accosted a man in a leather apron who came swinging along the sidewalk. “Devil a bit I knows. Some of these papistry gentry to be taken, I guess. Squire Oxenham’s keeping mum.”