visitor, laughing loudly at his own rude jest; but heeding little either
Hal's appearance or his reply, as he caught the old man's bewildered
eyes, and heard his efforts to utter his name.

For eighteen years had altered John Fulford less than either his father
or his daughter, and old Martin recognised him instantly, and held out
the only arm he could use, while the knight, softened, touched, and
really feeling more natural affection than Stephen had given him credit
for, dropped on his knee, breaking into indistinct mutterings with rough
but hearty greetings, regretting that he had not found his father
sooner, when his pouch was full, lamenting the change in him, declaring
that he must hurry away now, but promising to come back with sacks of
Italian ducats to provide for the old man.

Those who could interpret the imperfect utterance, now further choked by
tears and agitation, knew that there was a medley of broken rejoicings,
blessings, and weepings, in the midst of which the soldier, glad perhaps
to end a scene where he became increasingly awkward and embarrassed,
started up, hastily kissed the old man on each of his withered cheeks,
gave another kiss to his daughter, threw her two Venetian ducats,
bidding her spend them for the old man, and he would bring a pouchful
more next time, and striding to the door, bade Stephen call a boat to
take him down to Gravesend.

Randall, who had in the meantime donned his sober black gown in the
inner chamber, together with a dark hood, accompanied his newly found
father-in-law down the river, and Stephen would fain have gone too, but
for the injunction to return within the hour.

Perronel had hurried back to her grandfather's side to endeavour to
compose him after the shock of gladness. But it had been too much for
his enfeebled powers. Another stroke came on before the day was over,
and in two or three days more old Martin Fulford was laid to rest, and
his son's ducats were expended on masses for his soul's welfare.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

HEAVE HALF A BRICK AT HIM.

"For strangers then did so increase,
By reason of King Henry's queen,
And privileged in many a place
To dwell, as was in London seen.
Poor tradesmen had small dealing then
And who but strangers bore the bell,
Which was a grief to Englishmen
To see them here in London dwell."
_Ill May Day_,
by Churchill, a Contemporary Poet.

Time passed on, and Edmund Burgess, who had been sent from