I had not long left Bedford before morning began to dawn, and by the time I had reached the town of Hitchin it was broad daylight. Much as I desired to rest here, both for the sake of Black Ben as well as myself, I rode straight on, barely entering the town, but taking a narrow and somewhat unfrequented road instead. Not a soul did I meet, and this pleased me much, because, in case of pursuers, no one would be able to give information. When I had covered half the distance between Hitchin and St. Albans, I stopped by a wayside inn for an hour, keeping a sharp look-out on the road all the while. By noon I had reached St. Albans, but I did not stay here, pushing on instead to the town of Barnet, where I deemed myself safe from pursuit. Moreover, having once arrived at Barnet, I found the roads so full of travellers, who were on their way to London to join in the revels, as well as others coming from them, that my presence could not call for any comment. Nevertheless, I was very thankful when I reached the _Virgin Queen_, an inn close by St. Paul's Cross, where I gave my horse in charge of Caleb Bullen, an old-Ptime and faithful servitor of my father's. I spent two days in London trying to find my father, as well as taking part in the festivities which were held, but although I went everywhere that the public gathered, never once did I catch a glimpse of my father, neither did I meet with any man who had seen aught of him. I concluded therefore that he had again returned home, and had settled down to the old quiet life. Much as I wanted to see him I deemed it wise not to go thither. First, because if any at Bedford had by any means whatsoever become acquainted with my name, they might place watchers there; and second, because I knew that by going home I should put myself outside the possibility of hearing whatever news might be stirring. I therefore counted the crowns which I still possessed, and, finding that I had enough for my needs, I remained at the _Virgin Queen_, and partook of the good fare which Caleb Bullen provided. For a week London town was a scene of constant gaiety, for although the great rejoicing took place on the day when the king rode into London, it took the people a full week to settle down to the ordinary course of life. The playhouses which Oliver Cromwell had closed were all open, while seemingly all traces of the old Puritan life which had grown up under the great Protector were swept away in a day. Laws were relaxed, and the old stern system of morals was not only broken, but laughed at as unworthy of a free people.