host contained only three customers, who sat over their cups, listening to the storm without, which had obliged them to seek the roof of honest Walter on their way to Greenwich.

"A rough right this, my masters,' said one of the guests, who had with him a small bag of serge containing a bason and a pair of forceps, with several other articles appertaining to the then joint profession of barber and man-midwife; rough night and a stormy; a man need ha' some matter o' courage to venture out alone, an' he had much to lose; thieves and night-walkers are abroad."

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Marry, thou speakest verity, neighbour Sylvester," replied one of the men, "I would not venture out by myself on such a night, an' I had as many lives as a cat; what say you, goodman pedlar?" and he turned to the third person. This man had placed his pack in one corner of the room, and was sitting by the fire in deep thought, occasionally raking with his staff the unconsumed embers of the sticks into the large wood fire which blazed cheerfully, while the smoke escaped through an aperture in the roof, for the luxury of a chimney was then only known

men," said he, "an' if ye were attacked manfully and fairly, may return a blow or so, but your true thief gives ye not such 'vantage; ye may be trudging merrily on, and the next moment a broad arrow may quiver in your heart; no man, be he ever so valiant, can guard against an ambuscade. I well remember when I followed the army in the time of our late King Harry, (whom God assoilize,) when on the march and near Falaise, we came upon an ambush of the enemy. Many of our stoutest men-at-arms bit the dust, for the Frenchmen fell upon us 'ere we had time to form 'twas there I got this hurt, and a fearful one it was too;" here he bared his arm, on which was perceived the mark of a deep scar. The barber stretched out his neck to view it, and shrugged up his shoulders, while mine host continued,

"Ah, there was sharp work then, and the valley rung like a smithy with the clang of their armour, but we soon cleared the way of them, and continued the march. I got this hurt in my arm from a French bill-man, who was killed by one of our archers. Ah, my masters, there was sharp whistling of bolt and shaft, and loud clang of axe, and bill, and partizan; but the glorious day was at Agincourt; 'twould have gladdened your hearts to have heard our brave King Hall speaking to us as though we were his fellows.". Here mine host was interrupted in his narrative by a loud knocking at the door, accompanied by the gruff voice of a man who desired admittance.

On its being opened, a man abruptly entered, and seating himself on a bench, called for a measure of sack. The barber, who had before spoken so valiantly, now shrunk and quailed beneath the fierce glance of the stranger, whose whole appearance bespoke the hardened and determined ruffian. He was clad in a leathern doublet, soiled with grease and dirt. He wore a small thrum cap, in which was stuck a tuft of cock's feathers; round his neck hung a heavy steel chain, from which was suspended a small gold cross; his legs were covered with hose of blue serge, and his feet were protected by leather sandals, the thongs of which crossed his legs, and fastened at his knees. From a broad belt with which he was girted, hung a heavy, iron-handled sword, and he wore a dudgeon-dagger on his right side. In stature, he was about the middle height, square-built, and muscular. His broad and coarse features were over-shadowed by a profusion of black hair, and his untrimmed beard and mustachios were of the same colour. With such an addi

tion to their company, it cannot be supposed that the guests were much pleased. They stared at the stranger, and then at each other, not liking to begin a conversation with such a ruffialny-looking personage, when mine host entered with a measure of sack and placed it before his customer, at the same time holding out his hand for the money.

"What dost thou thrust out thy paw for, old Boniface ?" said the ruffian, in a tone which made the barber shake in his shoes. Mine host answered him carelessly.

"Good master Will," said he, "if thy memory does not play thee false, thou wilt remember that the last flask thou did'st empty at this mine house is still owing for, since which I have forsworn credit to any one."

"Now a murrain on thee, Quantock," replied the ruffian, looking fiercely round at the guests, and then scowling on mine host. "Dost thou think I mean to bilk thee, thou hungry knave?"

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No, master Will," replied Quantock, "but such trifles may escape your memory, therefore you must not refuse to pay me at once. As he said this, he turned away with the sack, when the ruffian, swearing a grisly oath, took from his neck the chain we have just described, and detaching the small cross of gold, he threw it on the table.

"There," said he, "take that in pledge and look that ye keep it safely till I redeem it." Mine host took the cross, and after looking at it, placed the measure of sack on the table, and left the room to put his pledge in a place of security. After tasting his liquor, the ruffian endeavoured to get into conversation with the other guests, who shrunk from him as though he had been the plague, particularly the barber, who a thousand times wished himself at home in his shop at Greenwich. He then addressed himself to the pedlar, who sat eyeing him with a suspicious look.

"Are ye for the town, my friend?" said he. "if the

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Ay," replied the pedlar, storm should clear up in time." "Then you will hardly do that tonight, for the townspeople are, methinks, snoring soundly by this time.'

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"I must e'en trudge it at once, then," said the pedlar, shouldering his pack,— when the barber spoke,

My friend," said he, " you had better tarry here to-night, the road's unsafe, and--"

"Never fear," interrupted the pedlar, 66 no one will care to disturb me; and if

they do, why I carry a good Sheffield whittle," and touching significantly a long knife which was stuck in a leathern sheath in his belt, he discharged his reckoning, and departed. The ruffian now turned to his sack, and after draining the horn to the bottom, abruptly quitted the inn.

"Now by my holidame," cried mine host, as soon as he was gone, "the pedlar is a doomed man. Will has not a cross in his pouch, and he will not scruple to take from another; would to heaven I were the man I was some twenty years ago, I would spoil the villain: 'tis a pity no sturdy fellow will rid the world of such a hang gallows, who would think no more of killing a man than he would of a capon; pray heaven the pedlar may prove more than his match, or there will be an end of his trade to-night."

"Know ye that black muzzled hound, then?" enquired the barber, with outstretched neck,

"Know him," replied mine host, "ay marry, I have too good cause to know him; but I know not how he lives-his face would tell ye not honestly; several deer have been missing lately from Sir John Creswell's park, and but yesterday se'ennight a traveller was found murdered near Eltham,—though nothing can be proved, suspicion rests on him."

"What is his name?" enquired the other guest.

"His proper name," replied Quantock, "is Will Hamlyn, but he is more often called Black Will, from the colour of his hair and beard, neither of which ale, I believe, as black as his soul-'twill be a wonder if the pedlar get safe to the town."

"Saint Bennet preserve us from such men," ejaculated the barber, devoutly crossing himself; "have ye room where we could sleep to-night, mine host?" "Ay, my master," replied Quantock, " and as fine a litter of straw as ever weary man snored on."

"Then we will tarry here to-night," said both the guests, and as the night was pretty far advanced, they soon sought their resting-place, where the barber's fears were soon quieted by a sound slumber. The next morning the body of the unfortunate pedlar was found at a short distance from the town, disfigured by a ghastly wound on the head. The broken ground attested the violence of the struggle for existence, and the rifled pack, which lay near, together with a few articles of trifling value, showed the object of the murderous attack. The barber, and his neighbour Hugh Tester, who followed the trade of a fletcher or arrow-maker, left

the Black Jack, happy in having escaped the fate of the less fortunate pedlar.

On the following week, the fletcher was busily engaged in making a quantity of arrows against the morrow, when a grand trial of skill was to take place on Blackheath. His work had lately so much increased, that he had taken another apprentice, in the hope of obtaining assistance in his trade; but as is often the case in the present age, the boy had given him infinitely more trouble. In vain did he attempt to instruct the urchin; he either could not or would not be taught the

arte and mysterie" of arrow-making. On this morning, he had exhausted all his patience in a vain attempt to shew him the proper way of feathering the shafts, and broke out into a violent passion with the lad.

"Did ever yeoman behold such a shaft?" cried he, taking up an arrow on which his 'prentice had glued the feather awry." By St. Barnabas, an' thou lettest me see such another, I will cudgel thee till thou howlest like a damned soul in purgatory! Get thee across the Tweed, and make such gear for the beggarly Scots, or to France among the Mounseers, who know not a cloth-yard shaft from a morris-pike. Out, out upon thee! thou should'st have been a tailor's booby, and not a- A step near the door interrupted the fletcher's invective, and looking round, he beheld with astonishment the athletic form of Black Will about to enter the shop. For a moment his speech failed him, but at length he mustered up courage enough to enquire in a faltering voice,

"What lack ye, worthy Sir, a good yew bow, or a sheaf of well-feathered shafts?"

"Let me see your gear," said 'the ruffian, gruffly, "I would have a dozen of your strongest and sharpest - headed shafts."

"You shall have them," replied the obsequious fletcher, selecting twelve of his best arrows, which he tied together, and handed to Will.

"What is your price?" enquired the ruffian.

"Three groats an' it please ye, fair sir," was the reply.

"Three groats!" echoed Will in a tone of surprise-" Three devils! why your city fletchers would ha' charged me but two, and cleaner made gear too! I shall pay thee but two groats." Saying this he took two silver groats from his pouch and threw them on a bench near him. "There," said he, "there is thy due, and by the fiends thou shalt have no more!"

"Then I cannot sell them," replied the fletcher, offended at the abuse bestowed upon his wares, and taking the bundle of arrows, he placed them with the others; but Will sprung forward, seized them and ran off, first tripping up the heels of Tester, who, however, soon regained his legs and pursued him. He soon came up with the ruffian and demanded his goods, at the same time seizing him by the shoulder.

"Away with thee, thou mongrel!" cried the ruffian, incensed at being thus detained-but the fletcher still kept his hold, when Will drew his dagger, and that moment would have silenced for ever the demands of the fletcher, when a monk who was passing saw the struggle, and coming up, seized Will's arm as the blow descended.

"How now, Jack Priest!" exclaimed the ruffian, "why dost thou meddle in my quarrel? loosen my arm, or by heaven!" "Profane not that word," said the monk—“ Tester, get thee to thy stal!; shame on thee, Will, for ever brawling dost thou hope to come off scathless in every quarrel; such a life will end at the gibbet."

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"Pshaw!" cried the ruffian contemptuously, keep thy sermon till next Sunday; 'twill serve for the good-wives and their cuckolds." The monk's pale cheek flushed at this insult, as he replied, "Shame on thee thou reprobate, dost thou still offend the townsmen with thy bullying, I tell thee 'twill bring thy body to the gallows ere long, if they do not beat out thy brains with their bats" (clubs). "Never fear that, Father Alwyn," replied Will, "I have been told by a witch woman, that that shall never happen; and her rhyme runs thus. Harkee, sir sleek pate, this is it :

Lance or partizan or brand,
Wielded by any mortal hand,
Thou may'st never fear;
Nor bow of yew, nor staff of ash,
Nor sturdy bill-man's deadly gash,
Nor hangman's hempen gear!'

"This is but a snare of Satan's, to catch thy soul," replied the monk; "a phantom raised by the devil to lure thee from the right path-'tis the ignis fatuus which leads erring mortals into the slough of iniquity and crime. Will the fiend protect thee from the stake, thou scoffer?" "As to that," replied the ruffian, "I can guard against it without the devil's assistance, so farewell, father; thy sermon is worth a stoop of wine, but by the rood l have not a cross in my pouch left." He turned on his heel, and was soon out of sight, while the monk proceeded on his

way. The fletcher had returned to his shop, and gathered up the money which Will had left on the work-bench, glad at escaping with a whole skin at the expense of the other groat. He recommenced his abuse of his stubborn 'prentice, when he was again interrupted by the entrance of another customer, who was a young man of tall and comely figure. He was clad in a doublet and hose of green, and wore buskins of buff leather, reaching just above the ankle, a small steel-studded belt sustained a dagger of exquisite workmanship. His hair was light and trimmed in short curls, and his mustaches, which were much darker than his hair, shewed to advantage a row of teeth white as pearl. He wore a crimson velvetcap, without any feather or ornament, save a small image of the Virgin in gold, curiously chased: he was a perfect contrast to the ruffian figure of his other customer.

"What lack ye, most honorable young gentleman?" enquired the fletcher, dressing his face in one of his most courteous smiles, and doffing his leathern cap.

"I would have one of your wellproved yew-bows, and a sheaf of your stoutest and straightest shafts," replied the youth. Tester selected a bundle of his best arrows, and one of his handsomest bows, for which his customer paid the price demanded without a murmur. The fletcher gathered up the money, which he placed in his pouch.

"Heaven bless you, worthy Sir!" said he. "May your enemies fear the twang of your bow (which is one of the best), and may your arrows ever hit the

white."

"Thanks, Goodman Fletcher," said the young stranger, as he passed out; as they turn out so may you thrive in your trade."

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Tester's customers now flocked in, and before night-fall his stock was almost exhausted. The following morning he attended on the heath, accompanied by one of his apprentices, who carried a bundle of competitors wanting a fresh supply. All arrows, in anticipation of some of the Greenwich was in motion, and hundreds thronged the way to Blackheath. The bowmen of the neighbouring villages were on the ground, clad in Lincoln green, and wearing the badges of there different companies. On a raised platform sat Sir John Creswell, a knight of giant figure and commanding presence, by his side sat his only daughter Bertha, the fairest maid in Kent, the fame of whose beauty had spread not only over the county, but even to the city itself. She wore a close dress of green, and her