erily, I am," said I, wheeling round and facing Tom Price, Captain
Merriman's man.

At first he knew me not, nor when I told him my name would he believe he
spake to Humphrey Dexter. But when at last he knew me, he clapped me
again on the back and said--

"Thou'rt well met, my little Lord Mayor. By my soul, I might have
walked a league and never met thee."

"You might have walked farther than that," said I. "What villainy are
you and your master now upon? for I take it you still serve the
Captain?"

He laughed. "As for my master, let him be. He's snug enough. I left
him-- Look you here, comrade," said he, taking my arm and looking hard
at me, "where saw I thee last?"

"Once when you lay as drunk as a dog in Finsbury Fields. And a good
turn you did me, comrade, and more than me, by what you blabbed then."

He gaped rather foolishly at this, and asked did I want my ears slit for
a noisy malapert?

Then I told him just what passed, and how I had been able thereby to
save the maiden from the Captain's clutches. When he heard that he
laughed, and swore and thwacked me on the back till I nearly dropped.

"By my life, you gallows dog you, if my master only knew what he owed
you! Why, my pretty lad, I never saw a man so put about as he was when
he came back from Canterbury that time without his prey."

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"Where else, do you suppose, but smacking his lips near the dove's nest?
He hath comforted himself for all he hath suffered, ere now, I warrant
thee!"

"What!" I shouted. "Has he followed the maiden to Ireland?"

He laughed.

"So, then, you know where the pretty one has flown? I warrant thee, if
thou couldst see her at this moment, thou wouldst see my master not a
bow-shot away. Ha! ha! I do not say nearer; for when I left, the fair
vixen still held him at arm's length. But he is getting on; and now,
since the maid's lover is dead--"

"He is not dead," said I; "I parted from him scarce a month ago!" And I
told him where and how.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"A fig for his life if that be his case," said he. "At any rate he is
believed to be dead; and the Captain, as I say, is getting on, having
made himself monstrous civil to Turlogh Luinech O'Neill, who, I think,
favours him somewhat for a son-in-law."

"The foul dog!" I exclaimed. "Would I had him standing here, for my
friend's sake. Tell me, Tom, what of a little maid who went from London
as waiting gentl