Mr. Solomon Gibbs was at the table. He had occupied the corner of the settle all the afternoon, searching for his niece in the bottom of his tankard, but after a while, as evening settled in, he declared he felt the heat too greatly by the fire, and then withdrew to the table. In fact, when occupying the settle, his can of ale had stood on a three-legged stool between his feet, and whenever he lusted after a drink he was obliged to stoop to take it up. As the ale got into his head, he found that this stooping produced a fulness of the veins that made him giddy, and he had fallen forward once on his hands, and upset the stool and his ale. Then he deemed it advisable to retire to the table, but as men never give direct and true reasons for their proceedings, he explained to those who were present that---- "There was thunder in the air, and when there was, he was liable to fits of giddiness; moreover, the heat of the fire was insufferable." His wig was very much awry; underneath it was a strong stubbly growth, for Mr. Gibbs had not had his head shaved for a fortnight. His mulberry coat was much stained with ale, and the elbows were glossy. The old man in the threadbare coat occupied a chair near the table, and he stood up, turned his eyes to the ceiling, extended his arms rigidly before him, planted his legs apart, and began to sing a song at that time exceedingly popular, "The Catholic Cause;" his voice ranging through an extensive scale, from bass to falsetto. O the Catholic Cause! now assist me, sweet Muse, How earnestly I do desire thee! Faith I will not go pray to St. Bridget to-day, But only to thee to inspire me. The singer was interrupted by a groan from all in the room, and a shout from Mr. Solomon Gibbs, "Calvinist Géneva and Hollands for me! Catholic French Claret is thin--deuced thin liquor!" Then the Church shall bear sway, the State shall obey, Which in England will be a new wonder! Commons, Nobles, and Kings, and Temporal things Shall submit, and shall truckle under! The miners jumped to their feet, and began to swear that they'd rather be crushed in their adits, than live to see that day. "Things are coming fair on towards it, sure as the clouds have been rolling up, and portending a thunderstorm," said the host. "Ah!" growled Solomon; "give the Devil his due. Old Noll, who didn't sit by right Divine, knew how to make Britain free and honoured." "No Dutch in the Medway, then! No burning of Spithead and His Majesty's fleet under His Majesty's nose," said the old singer. "'Tis a pity," said one of the men present, "that there were not a few more drowned on the Lemon and Ore than those who did. Nay, rather, that certain who escaped should not have sunk, and such as drowned should not have escaped." This had reference to a sandbank near Yarmouth, on which the frigate bearing the Duke of York had struck, when about a hundred and thirty persons were drowned.