To this Bacon only replied by a dignified stare and turned in silence to the table. "Which you agoin' to write first," said Droop, considerately dropping the question he had raised. "The bill of sale." "All right. I'd like to have ye put the one about the patent real strong. I don't want to fail on the fust try, you know." Bacon made no reply, but dipped his pen and set to work. In due time the two documents were indited and carefully signed. "This letter is addressed to my uncle, Lord Burleigh," said Bacon. "He is at the Palace at Greenwich, with the Queen." "Shall I hev to take it to him myself?" "Assuredly." "Might hev trouble findin' him, I should think," said Droop. "Mayhap. On more thought, 'twere better you had a guide. I know a worthy gentleman--one of the Queen's harbingers. Take you this letter to him, for which purpose I will e'en leave it unsealed that he may read it. He will conduct you to mine uncle, for he hath free access to the court." "What's his name?" "Sir Percevall Hart. His is the demesne with the high tower of burnt bricks, near the west end of Tower Street. But stay! 'Twere better you did seek him at the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap." "Sir Percevall Hart--Boar's Head--Eastcheap. That's in London City, I s'pose." "Yes--yes," said Bacon, impatiently. "Any watchman or passer-by will direct you. Now, sir, 'tis for you to fulfil your promise." "All right," said Droop. "It's my innin's--so here goes." In a few minutes the two men had changed their costumes and stood looking at each other with a very evident disrelish of their respective situations. Droop held his chin high in the air to avoid contact with the stiff ruff, while his companion turned up the collar of his nineteenth-century coat and held it together in front as though he feared taking cold. "Why, Master Droop," said Bacon, glancing down in surprise at his friend's nether extremities, "what giveth that unwonted spiral look to your legs? They be ribbed as with grievous weals." Droop tried to look down, but his wide ruff prevented him. So he put one foot on the table and, bringing his leg to the horizontal, gazed dismally down upon it. "Gosh all hemlock--them's my underdrawers!" he exclaimed. "These here ding-busted long socks o' yourn air so all-fired tight the blamed drawers hez hiked up in ridges all round! Makes me look like a bunch o' bananas in a bag!" he said, crossly. "Well--well--a truce to trivial complaints," said Bacon, hurriedly, fearful that Droop might withdraw his consent to the rescue. "Here are my cloak and hat, friend; and now away, I pray you, and remember--ride to southward, that I may have a clear field to London." Droop donned the hat and cloak and gazed at himself sorrowfully in the glass. "Darned ef I don't look like a cross 'tween a Filipino and a crazy cowboy!" he muttered.