's in none
too good favor with the King. But as to his address: if thou wilt take
the dome on St. Paul's as thy guide, which thou canst most readily
see, proceed thither, and when reached, continue down the street
running toward the left, a few more steps will bring thee to a house
surrounded by an iron railing; it is the one thou seekest." He
hesitated a moment, then continued as if good judgment had been
overcome by enthusiasm--"and when thou dost behold Sir Thomas, make
mention that Giles Martin (say naught of my present calling, for he
knows me not by that) sends his duty, and would again at his elbow cry
in the self-same voice, 'An Essex, An Essex!' Perchance," Martin
added, suddenly breaking off, fearing he had been incautious before a
stranger in connecting his name with an incident which had brought but
little honor with it, "that is why I am now doing this," taking a
soiled tankard from the table and wiping it on his apron.

"Gladly will I be the bearer of thy message, but as thou hast said,
why does Sir Winter stand in ill repute?"

"It may be," answered Martin, turning his gaze upon the two men at the
table, then setting down the tankard, "that he hath a quick temper and
a ready tongue, swift steeds in our time to pull a man's head upon the
block," and advancing toward the other concluded in a low voice full
of emotion, "mayhap memory doth hold up a mirror to his eye, in which
is reflected Mary's dripping head, chopped for her faith."

"Verily," cried Fawkes, in a loud tone characteristic of one not
afraid of voicing opinions that lay near his heart, "would that good
King James might look into the glass thou dost mention and see the
promises of his youth, for naught of promise or his mother's head
methinks----"

"Hist," whispered Martin, breaking in and laying his hand upon the
speaker, "a truce to such treason talk; naught has it done but brought
me to an ill-famed pot-house," he concluded in a thoughtful voice.

"Well, well, none of thy story will I ask; but in Spain they do illy
treat a heretic," Fawkes continued, looking significantly at the fire,
and pointing toward it with his outstretched arm; "a truce, as thou
sayest, for I must no longer tarry. Saint Paul's bell is on the stroke
of ten, and I would see Sir Winter, and (in a softer voice) my lass,
to-night; for honestly, I am more than anxious to see her pretty face;
first I must bid yon knaves good-bye." So saying he endeavored to
rouse the com