"
"Well, Master," said the straggler, as he leant his back against the
barn, and his two companions sat down on the ground in the shelter,
"I have heard a lot about the Cause, but all I know is that my Lord
of Essex sent to call out five-and-twenty men from our parish, and
the squire, he was in a proper rage with being rated to pay ship
money, so--as I had fallen out with my master, mine host of the
'Griffin,' more fool I--I went with the young gentleman, and a proper
ass I was to do so."
"Father said 'twas rank popery railing in the Communion table, when
it was so handy to sit on or to put one's hat on," added one of the
youths looking up. "So he was willing for me to go, and I thought
I'd like to see the world, but I'd fain be at home again."
"So would not I," muttered the other lad.
"No," said the ex-tapster humorously, "for thou knowst the stocks be
gaping for thee, Dick."
By this time Jeph and Stead had returned with a jug of small beer, a
horn cup, and three hunches of the barley loaf. The men ate and
drank, and then the tapster returning hearty thanks, called the
others on, observing that if they did not make the best speed, they
might miss their billet, and have to sleep in the streets, if not
become acquainted with the lash.
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