Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
And this kind of thing I found everywhere as I rode through London
streets. On the one hand was a kind of lawless joy, which prevailed
greatly; and on the other fearful foreboding as to the coming days.
But I stayed not long in London, for I was eager to make my way to
Folkestone. The wedding contract hidden in the black box was more to me
than the rejoicings of the Royalists, or the fears of the Separatists.
It took me two days to reach Folkestone; indeed, I did not reach this
town till the evening of the second day. Moreover, the second day of my
journey had been rainy, and I was both wet and tired when I reached the
_Barley Sheaf Inn_, which looked homely and comfortable, for the which I
was very thankful. As the evening was rainy, I thought I should
perchance be the only traveller; but no sooner had the ostler taken my
horse from me than I saw two persons ride up, which interested me
greatly. Perhaps this was because they both seemed anxious to hide their
faces. The one was, as far as I could judge, a strongly-built man, but
of what age I could not judge; the other was a woman, clad from head to
foot in a long cloak. Moreover, she wore a hood, which almost hid her
face. Nevertheless, I caught one glimpse of it as she passed in at the
door. It was as pale as death, while her eyes were full of terror.
"Private rooms," said the man, "and that without delay."
After they had passed out of sight I fell to wondering who they were;
but I never dreamed then that their fate would be linked with mine in
such a wondrous way.
CHAPTER IV
THE HAPPENING AT THE INN
After I had partaken of food, I made my way to the harbour for the
purpose of finding out when a boat might be leaving for the
neighbourhood of Boulogne. By this time the rain had ceased, and
although the night was wellnigh upon the town I was able to see
something of its character. Not that it was of any great note. It
consisted of only a few narrow streets, which being wet, looked
miserable and squalid. The bold outline of the cliffs impressed me
greatly, however, and I judged that on fair days the whole district must
be pleasant to behold.
I found as I passed through, that here as well as in London the sole
subject of conversation was the coming of the new king, and of the
changes his coming would bring about. Here also as in London, men had it
that it would go hard with those who had fought against the late king,
and especially against those who had put him to death. Nevertheless
none, as far as I could discover, spoke against him; rather they even
praised the profligacy of which all seemed to believe him guilty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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