fusion prevailed below. The
royal purveyor and cook, who formed part of the king's suite, were
busily employed in the kitchen, and though they had the whole household
at their command, they made rather slow progress at first, owing to the
want of materials. In a short time, however, this difficulty was
remedied. Ducks were slaughtered by the dozen; fowls by the score, and a
couple of fat geese shared the same fate. The store ponds were visited
for fish by John Lutcombe; and as the country abounded with game, a
large supply of pheasants, partridges, and rabbits was speedily procured
by the keeper and his assistants. Amongst others, Blaize lent a
helping-hand in this devastation of the poultry-yard, and he had just
returned to the kitchen, and commenced plucking one of the geese, when
he was aroused by a slap on the shoulder, and looking up, beheld
Pillichody.

"What ho! my little Blaize, my physic-taking porter," cried the bully;
"how wags the world with you? And how is my pretty Patience? How is that
peerless kitchen-maiden? By the god of love! I am dying to behold her
again."

"Patience is well enough, for aught I know," replied Blaize, in a surly
tone. "But it is useless for you to think of her. She is betrothed to
me."

"I know it," replied Pillichody; "but do not suppose you are the sole
master of her affections. The little charmer has too good taste for
that. 'Blaize,' said she to me, 'will do very well for a husband, but he
cannot expect me to continue faithful to him.'"

"Cannot I?" exclaimed the porter reddening. "Fiends take her! but I do!
When did she say this?"

"When I last visited your master's house," replied Pillichody. "Sweet
soul! I shall never forget her tender looks, nor the kisses she allowed
me to snatch from her honeyed lips when your back was turned. The very
recollection of them is enchanting."

"Zounds and fury!" cried Blaize, transported with rage. "If I am only a
porter, while you pretend to be a major, I will let you see I am the
better man of the two." And taking the goose by the neck, he swung it
round his head like a flail, and began to batter Pillichody about the
face with it.

"S'death!" cried the bully, endeavouring to draw his sword, "if you do
not instantly desist, I will treat you like that accursed bird--cut your
throat, pluck, stuff, roast, and eat you afterwards." He was, however,
so confounded by the attack, that he could offer no resistance, and in
retreating, caught h