No sooner had the details of his employment been agreed upon, and this somewhat uncouth-looking serving-man had passed into the hands of a new master, than the landlord in a moment of unwonted generosity bade his son fetch the fellow half a pint of small ale. “Now sit ye here, my lad,” said Gamaliel, “and let me hear about this Charles Stuart. But I think we might get on better if first I had your name.” “My name is William Jackson,” said the serving-man, “but they call me Will for short.” “Will Jackson, is it?” said the landlord. “Humph! I think as little of the name as I do of the bearer. But for the present we will let that pass. Now tell me of this Charles Stuart. What kind of a person might you call him?” “Oh, master, a grand man indeed!” said Will Jackson, with a fine air of enthusiasm. “A rare noble gentleman.” “Humph!” said Gamaliel, “I have my doubts about it--the Popish dog! But what doth he look like?” “A wonderful handsome fellow, master,” the earnest William said. “Every woman that he looks upon just languishes for love of him, they say.” “Can you recall his features at all?” the landlord asked. “Is he a black man or a light man? A tall man or a small man? Come, trim your memory.” “Well, do you know, master,” said Will Jackson, with a sly laugh,--“do you know, master, they do say that his gracious Majesty is most remarkable like me. I’ve heard say that we’re as like as two peas, master, and that we might be brothers, as it were.” “Confound the rogue!” cried the landlord, laughing, in spite of himself, at the fellow’s impudence. “A pretty sort of likeness you’d be, I reckon, to discover a king by! I suppose, you ragged, dirty scoundrel, that some wench hath caressed your self-esteem with this fair parallel to coax an extra groat or two. A mighty fine king you’d make, wouldn’t you?” “Well, master, if you please, more than one wench hath told me so,” said Will Jackson. His master shook his fist at him, and threatened to cuff his ear. But the fellow in his own mind seemed so certain that he bore a striking resemblance to the King, that he appeared quite unable to divine the source of Gamaliel’s mirth. For the landlord fell to laughing until he nearly wept over the perplexed gravity of his drawer. Whatever the intolerable impudence of the assumption, Will Jackson certainly appeared not to regard it in the light of a jest. To him it seemed rather a circumstance from which he extracted a highly legitimate pride. Even as the landlord talked with his servitor he made up his mind that he would lose no time in making the utmost possible use of Will Jackson’s special knowledge. He must see the young man with the incurable disease at once. But how could it be contrived? That matter was not so easy. It seemed hopeless to gain access to a domain guarded by so fair a Cerberus. After much hard thinking, Master Gamaliel had recourse to a stratagem--an extreme one, it is true, but highly necessary in this present pass.