Next morning we started in the opposite direction--eastward down the High Street. On the left-hand side we soon came to a curiously narrow street or alley, running beside a large bookseller’s shop, and entering it saw above us an immense timber-crossed gable, leaning over so as almost to touch the opposite houses. Further down the alley--in which the “Royal Oak” public-house, once the “Cross Keys,” is situated--we still see above us a line of overhanging stories. We can walk round this block, and return into the High Street by St. Peter’s Street. [Illustration: Royal Oak Passage] This building, on which is inscribed in large letters “God-begot House,” is at present occupied by the two establishments of Mr. Perkins, a draper, and Miss Pamplin, a stationer. From the house of the former the panelling has been removed, but behind the shop is a small room with a richly stuccoed ceiling. Miss Pamplin showed us over her house with great courtesy. The upper part is wainscoted with oak. The drawing-room is handsome--low, of course--and it has many beams in the ceiling, radiating from the centre. The walls are covered with carved panelling, the most elaborate part, over the fireplace, exhibiting small round-headed arches with intricate mouldings, while the opposite wall is adorned with lines of large rosettes. The bedroom in the roof at the back shows some curious woodwork; from it there is a good view of the back of this old-world edifice, with its long-tiled roofs sloping inwards to a central court. [Sidenote: God-begot House.] This house, which dates from 1667, is large, and let in apartments. It stands on the site of the Church of St. Peter’s, in Macellis--that is, in the shambles--and was surrounded by butchers’ stalls, St. Peter’s Street having been called Fleshmonger Street. There seems to have been a house of an ecclesiastical character, called “God-begot,” adjoining the church, and the privileges of the spot are said to have been originally granted by Queen Emma, the mother of Edward the Confessor, to the Priory of St. Swithun. It was a sanctuary--a place of refuge for the guilty--and many conflicts arose about it between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, sometimes men being forcibly dragged out of it. Strange to say, it was also a manor. A record was kept here; courts were held, and judgments delivered. On the opposite side of the street is the old Guildhall, in front of which a large clock is held out over the street by an arm of old carved wood. [Illustration: The Old Guildhall.] “Why it looks as if it might fall on one’s head,” said Miss Hertford. “If you have any fear of that,” I replied, “be assured there is nothing in it; the case is empty, the works being in the curfew tower above.” “What is the meaning of the three swords over it?” inquired Miss Hertford. “They remind me of a conjuring trick.”