to Master Richard Taverner
and his dame; but of increasing gloom to the captive in his solitary
cell in the Fleet. Of late, he had become so fierce and unmanageable
that he had to be chained to the wall. He sprang at his jailer and tried
to strangle him, and gnashed his teeth, and shook his fists in impotent
rage at Osmond Mounchensey. But again his mood changed, and he would
supplicate for mercy, crawling on the floor, and trying to kiss the feet
of his enemy, who spurned him from him. Then he fell sick, and refused
his food; and, as the sole means of preserving his life, he was removed
to an airier chamber. But as it speedily appeared, this was only a
device to enable him to escape from prison,--and it proved successful.
He was thought to be so ill that the jailer, fancying him incapable of
moving, became negligent, and when Osmond Mounchensey next appeared, the
prisoner had flown. How he had effected his escape no one could at first
explain; but it appeared, on inquiry, that he had been assisted by two
of his old myrmidons, Captain Bludder and Staring Hugh, both of whom
were prisoners at the time in the Fleet.

Osmond's rage knew no bounds. He vowed never to rest till he had traced
out the fugitive, and brought him back.

But he experienced more difficulty in the quest than he anticipated. No
one was better acquainted with the obscure quarters and hiding-places of
London than he; but in none of these retreats could he discover the
object of his search. The potentates of Whitefriars and the Mint would
not have dared to harbour such an offender as Mompesson, and would have
given him up at once if he had sought refuge in their territories. But
Osmond satisfied himself, by a perquisition of every house in those
sanctuaries, that he was not there. Nor had any one been seen like him.
The asylum for "masterless men," near Smart's Quay, and all the other
dens for thieves and criminals hiding from justice, in and about the
metropolis, were searched, but with the like ill result. Hitherto,
Mompesson had contrived entirely to baffle the vigilance of his foe.

At last, Osmond applied to Luke Hatton, thinking it possible his cunning
might suggest some plan for the capture of the fugitive. After listening
with the greatest attention to all related to him, the apothecary
pondered for awhile, and then said--"It is plain he has trusted no one
with his retreat, but I think I can find him. Come to me on the third
night from this, an