h weak and hysterical spirits had no fair vent for
their "humors," save in being reconciled to the Church of Rome, and
plotting with Jesuits to assassinate the queen, as Parry and Somerville,
and many other madmen, did.

So, at least, some Jesuit or other seems to have thought, shortly after
Amyas had agreed to give the spendthrift a berth on board. For one day
Amyas, going down to Appledore about his business, was called into the
little Mariners' Rest inn, to extract therefrom poor Will Parracombe,
who (in spite of his vow) was drunk and outrageous, and had vowed the
death of the landlady and all her kin. So Amyas fetched him out by the
collar, and walked him home thereby to Bideford; during which walk Will
told him a long and confused story; how an Egyptian rogue had met him
that morning on the sands by Boathythe, offered to tell his fortune,
and prophesied to him great wealth and honor, but not from the Queen of
England; had coaxed him to the Mariners' Rest, and gambled with him
for liquor, at which it seemed Will always won, and of course drank his
winnings on the spot; whereon the Egyptian began asking him all sorts of
questions about the projected voyage of the Rose--a good many of which,
Will confessed, he had answered before he saw the fellow's drift;
after which the Egyptian had offered him a vast sum of money to do some
desperate villainy; but whether it was to murder Amyas or the queen,
whether to bore a hole in the bottom of the good ship Rose or to set the
Torridge on fire by art-magic, he was too drunk to recollect exactly.
Whereon Amyas treated three-quarters of the story as a tipsy dream,
and contented himself by getting a warrant against the landlady for
harboring "Egyptians," which was then a heavy offence--a gipsy disguise
being a favorite one with Jesuits and their emissaries. She of course
denied that any gipsy had been there; and though there were some who
thought they had seen such a man come in, none had seen him go out
again. On which Amyas took occasion to ask, what had become of the
suspicious Popish ostler whom he had seen at the Mariners' Rest three
years before; and discovered, to his surprise, that the said ostler
had vanished from the very day of Don Guzman's departure from Bideford.
There was evidently a mystery somewhere: but nothing could be proved;
the landlady was dismissed with a reprimand, and Amyas soon forgot the
whole matter, after rating Parracombe soundly. After all, he could n