Close down on a tiny landing-stage, by the nearer bridge's foot, a man stood watching the approach of the boat with his one available eye. The other, blurred and blemished apparently past all service, aggravated the naturally stern and sinister expression of features passable and even handsome, to which his puritanical pot-hat, leathern-belted, black, close-fitting doublet and plain white linen collar lent no relief. Neither did the knitting of his sombre brows relax, but rather gathered more heavily, as Lee made fast the boat and Ruth sprang lightly to the bank. CHAPTER II. HOW A MYSTERIOUS COAL BARGE CAME TO THE "KING'S ARMS." "You are late, girl," he said gloomily. "Nay, father," answered Ruth, glancing from his face towards the still brilliant westward horizon. "'Tis not yet seven o'clock." "Tush!" he rejoined impatiently. "I'll have no more of these gaddings. And hark you, young mistress, no more of these vanities neither;" and he looked as he spoke, in angry contempt at her dainty skirts. "In with you at once and lay them away. Or better still, cast them into the kitchen fire. And as for this," he went on, roughly clutching at her hawthorn wreath, and dragging it from her head, he flung it into the water, "Let that settle it." [Sidenote: A gloomy end to May-day.] Tears of grief and indignation sparkled into Ruth's eyes, as she watched the beautiful flowers whirled by the eddying tide into deep water; but by a strong effort she restrained herself, and only said in tones of gentle reproach, "'Twas my crown, father. They made me Queen of May." "Queen! crown! forsooth! did they so?" he said, with a bitter smile. "How is it the very stones do not cry out against this restoring in our unhappy country of these mummings and pagan holidays? Is it not enough to be having queens--ay, and kings--of flesh and blood wantoning it at Whitehall, but we must be seeing modest maidens aping their antics, and behaving in this fashion?" "Nay, Master Rumbold," said Lee, "our people desired to do Ruth an honour; and I think you should be proud." "I should be prouder," returned Rumbold, turning irefully on the young man, "to see her in her winding-sheet, a pale white--Marry! and let me look at your face now, Mistress," he went on, snatching her roughly by the chin. "Ha! red as your gaudy flowers there! So! I guessed as much. And there has been romping, has there?" "Nay, father; just a little turn or two at Hoodman Blind, and Hunt the Slipper." "What next?" said Rumbold groaningly, and turning up his eye. "And--and a measure," faltered the truthful Ruth. "Dancing!" and now the stern eye glared. "Only round--round the Maypole, father." Rumbold's lips parted with a jerk, as if he was about to break into still sharper rebuke; but as his eye caught the expression of Lawrence's face he contented himself with reiterating his dismissal.