merriment into mourning.

But I think that I acquitted myself pretty well; and that none guessed
that anything was amiss with me; for I spoke of the plays I had seen in
Rome, before that I was a novice, and of the singers that I heard there;
and I listened, too, to their own speeches, gathering this and that, of
what they did and where they went, if by chance I might gather something
to their own advantage thereafter.

It was pretty to see, too, how courteous and gallant Mr. Ireland was
with his mother and sister; and how he put their cloaks about them at
the door, and feigned that he was a constable to carry them off to
prison--(at which my heart failed me again)--for frequenting the company
of suspected persons; and how he gave an arm to each of them, as they
set off into the dark.

* * * * *

That night too, as I lay abed, I thought much of all this again. I had
established a great friendliness with the Fathers by now, telling them I
was come up again to London, as Mr. Whitbread had recommended me, until
the Court should go again to Windsor, and that perhaps I should go with
it thither. They had told me at that, that one of their Fathers was
there, named Mr. Bedingfeld (who was of the Oxburgh family, I think),
and that he was confessor to the Duke of York, and that they would
recommend me to him if I should go. But all through my anxiety I
comforted myself with the assurance the King had given to me, that,
whatever else might ensue, not a hair of their heads should be touched,
for I had great confidence in His Majesty's word, given so solemnly.

CHAPTER VI

Now begins in earnest that chapter of horrors that will be with me till
I die; and the learning of that lesson that I might have learned long
before from one that was himself a Prince, and knew what he was talking
of--I mean King David, who bids us in his psalm to "put no trust in
princes nor in any child of man."

For several days all passed peacefully enough. I waited upon Mr.
Chiffinch, and asked whether the King had spoken of me again, and was
told he had not; so I went about my business, which was to haunt the
taverns and to frequent the company of the Jesuits.

I made an acquaintance or two in the taverns at this time, which served
me later, though not in the particular manner that I had wished; but for
the most part matters seemed quiet enough. Men did not speak a great
deal of the Catholics; and I always fenc