south, Master Droop."

"D'ye think I won't split these darned pants and tight socks?" said
Droop.

"Hush, friend, hush!" Bacon exclaimed. "The bailiffs must not know we
are here till they see you mount and away. Nay--nay--fear not. The hose
and stockings will hold right securely, I warrant you."

"Well, so long!" said Droop, and the next moment he was in the saddle.
"G'lang there! Geet ap!" he shouted, slapping the horse's neck with his
bridle.

With a snort of surprise, the horse plunged forward dashing across the
moonlit field. A moment later, Bacon saw two other horses leap forward
in pursuit from the dark cover of a neighboring grove.

"Good!" he exclaimed. "The lure hath taken!"

Then leaning over he rubbed his shins ruefully.

"How the night wind doth ascend within this barbarous hose!" he
grumbled.

CHAPTER IX

PHOEBE AT THE PEACOCK INN

While Copernicus Droop was acquiring fame and fortune as a photographer,
Rebecca and Phoebe were leading a quiet life in the city.

Phoebe was perfectly happy. For her this was the natural continuation
of a visit which her father, Isaac Burton, had very unwillingly
permitted her to pay to her dead mother's sister, Dame Goldsmith. She
was very fond of both her aunt and uncle, and they petted and indulged
her in every possible way.

Her chief source of happiness lay in the fact that the Goldsmiths
favored the suit of Sir Guy Fenton, with whom she found herself deeply
in love from the moment when he had so opportunely arrived to rescue the
sisters from the rude horse-play of the Southwark mob.

Poor Rebecca, on the other hand, found herself in a most unpleasant
predicament. She had shut herself up in her room on the first day of her
arrival on discovering that her new hosts were ale drinkers, and she had
insisted upon perpetuating this imprisonment when she had discovered
that she would only be accepted on the footing of a servant.

Phoebe, who remembered Rebecca both as her nineteenth-century sister
and as her sixteenth-century nurse and tiring-woman, thought this
determination the best compromise under the circumstances, and explained
to her aunt that Rebecca was subject to recurring fits of delusion, and
that it was necessary at such times to humor her in all things.

On the very day of the visit of Francis Bacon to the Panchronicon, the
two sisters were sitting together in their bed-room. Rebecca was at her
knitting by the window and Phoebe was rereadi