On the side of the bridge towards the Tower, the broad sheet of water was filled with ships of a shape and build strange to her eyes, but picturesque and delightful in appearance. They were small, and had enormously high prows, coloured and gilded, and were hung with many gay flags and streamers. “Some of those ships have sailed across the Atlantic to the strange newly-discovered country of America,” said Godmother. “Let us go down on to the quay, where you see the crowd of little boys round that sunburnt sailor. He is telling them all sorts of travellers’ tales, you may be sure.” Betty ran eagerly down a slimy wooden staircase on to the quay that was thronged with sailors unloading some ships that had newly arrived. A rough, strong-looking man with a face burnt almost black by the sun, and large gold rings hanging from his ears, was talking to a group of men and boys who listened breathlessly to stories about gold and jewels, about marvellous animals and still more marvellous men, about wonderful islands under hot blue skies, all of which the sailor had seen in his travels. Glancing at his audience, Betty saw by their faces how his words stirred their imagination and filled them with excitement. “Such stories of foreign travel are being told in every inn by sailors who have come back from new lands,” said Godmother. “All through the present reign of Elizabeth, great English sailors like Drake and Hawkins, of whom you’ve heard, have been making voyages, and coming back to London with gold and all sorts of merchandise.” “That’s one of the reasons why London is getting so rich, then?” Betty asked. [Illustration] “One of the chief reasons. England has already beaten the Spanish Armada and become ‘Mistress of the Seas,’ and the ships you see here, go to and from this port of London increasing its trade and its riches every day. Now you understand why that Exchange built by Sir Thomas Gresham was so much needed as a meeting-place for merchants to arrange the enormous amount of business the sailors have won for them. London is becoming more and more a city of merchants, living in beautiful houses. We will go and look at one of them. It is called Crosby Place, and it’s not far from the Royal Exchange which we have just seen.” “Crosby?” echoed Betty. “But I thought it was somewhere in Chelsea? There’s a Crosby Hall there. I passed it only the other day!” “I’ll explain that to you in a minute, when we’ve seen where the house stands now, where it was built, and where it ought to have remained—in Bishopsgate Street.” Before very long they had reached a most beautiful and stately mansion. It was of immense size, with windows wonderfully sculptured in stone-work. It had a long noble hall and splendid gateways and outside staircases leading to doors entering the building at different levels. A big garden surrounded it. “Oh, what a lovely place!” exclaimed Betty.