he crown of
his head in stiff wisps. I set him down as a Ranter, and was in no way
surprised when he began to inveigh against the evils of the times, and
to prophesy the judgment of God on the sins of the city.

"Pestilence hath come and fire hath come," he cried. "Yet wickedness is
not put away, and lewdness vaunteth herself, and the long-suffering of
God is abused."

All this seeming to me very tedious, I sipped my wine and made no
answer. I had enough to think of, and was content to let the sins of the
city alone.

"The foul superstition of Papacy raises its head again," he went on,
"and godly men are persecuted."

"Those same godly men," said I, "have had their turn before now, sir. To
many it seems as if they were only receiving what they gave." For the
fellow had roused me to some little temper by his wearisome cursing.

"But the Time of the Lord is at hand," he pursued, "and all men shall
see the working of His wrath. Ay, it shall be seen even in palaces."

"If I were you, sir," said I dryly, "I would not talk thus before
strangers. There might be danger in it."

He scanned my face closely for a few moments; then, leaning across
towards me, he said earnestly:

"You are young, and you look honest. Be warned in time; fight on the
Lord's side, and not among His enemies. Verily the time cometh."

I had met many of these mad fellows, for the country was full of them,
some being disbanded soldiers of the Commonwealth, some ministers who
had lost their benefices; but this fellow seemed more crazy than any I
had seen: though, indeed, I must confess there was a full measure of
truth, if not of charity, in the description of the King's Court on
which he presently launched himself with great vigour of declamation and
an intense, although ridiculous, exhibition of piety.

"You may be very right, sir----"

"My name is Phineas Tate."

"You may be very right, friend Phineas," said I, yawning; "but I can't
alter all this. Go and preach to the King."

"The King shall be preached to in words that he must hear," he retorted
with a frown, "but the time is not yet."

"The time now is to seek our beds," said I, smiling. "Do you lodge
here?"

"For this night I lie here. To-morrow I preach to this city."

"Then I fear you are likely to lie in a less comfortable place
to-morrow." And bidding him good-night, I turned to go. But he sprang
after me, crying, "Remember, the time is short"; and I doubt whether I
should hav