I did not think it best to go to _The Bull_ at Bedford, but seeing an inn called _General Fairfax_, I made my way thither. If an innkeeper was bold enough to keep an inn bearing such a name, I reflected, it might be that I should be safer there than elsewhere. Not that I feared recognition. As Caleb Bullen had said, my appearance had been so changed during my prison life that scarce any one would know me. When I was in Bedford last, I was brown and strong; now I was pale, and looked weak and ill. Moreover, my clothes were so different from what I wore then that they altered my appearance much. Besides, I had but little to fear. No warrant was out against me, neither had I done anything to cause those in authority to take note of me. The inn, moreover, was of a quieter order than the others, neither were any troublesome questions asked of me. After supper I found my way into the room where several men sat with their mugs of ale before them, and I found that they were talking about the trial which was to take place on the following morning. "How many are to be tried?" asked one. "Know you, James Bilsom?" "Ay, I think there be a score or more." "They will be all sent to prison, I'll wage." "There can be no doubt about that. Parson Gilloch is most terrible and bitter against these Dissenters; as for Squire Graystone, he fair hates them. Not that I can see they have done aught wrong. They do but pray and preach as they did before the coming of the king. As for their piety--well, if I lay a-dying I'd rather have one of them to pray with me than I'd have the parson, for all his long white gown." "But still, the king is king, and law is law." "Ay, I suppose so. Still, although I was no lover of Old Nol, we were better off in his days. There was less thieving, less drinking, less loose living, and more piety. Of that I am free to confess." "Say not so too loud, for if Parson Gilloch hears of it he will e'en make you smart. Why, think of what hath befallen the Dissenters." "Ay, a man can hardly call his soul his own, that he cannot. Are you going to the trial to-morrow?" "Nay, I cannot sleep after I have been to these trials. I cannot help thinking of the women and children. It is terrible hard for them." "Ay, it is; how they manage to live I know not." "Think you there is any truth in the stories about Sir John Leslie's daughter?" "Nay, I think not. If there were she'd have been found before this." "I don't know. She's a clever maid. Why, think how she guarded her sister, and got her out of the country. I do hear she's joined Sir Charles in Holland." "Ay, but she can't be in these parts now. How can she be? Every house is watched; besides, how can she get meat to eat?" "I don't know; but I tell you, she hath all her wits, and she's more than a match for Parson Gilloch. Peter Blewitt swears it was she that he saw before she tripped him up and blew out his candle."