rrants on the top, and gave them all to Nick,
who thanked him kindly, but said, if Master Carew pleased, he'd rather
have his supper, for he was very hungry.

"Why, to be sure," said Carew, and tossed a silver penny for a scramble
to the crowd; "thou shalt have the finest supper in the town."

Whereupon, bowing to all the great folk they met, and being bowed to
most politely in return, they came to the Three Tuns.

Stared at by a hundred curious eyes, made way for everywhere, and
followed by wondering exclamations of envy, it was little wonder that
Nick, a simple country lad, at last began to think that there was not in
all the world another gentleman so grand as Master Gaston Carew, and
also to have a pleasant notion that Nicholas Attwood was no bad
fellow himself.

The lordly innkeeper came smirking and bobbing obsequiously about, with
his freshest towel on his arm, and took the master-player's order as a
dog would take a bone.

"Here, sirrah," said Carew, haughtily; "fetch us some repast, I care not
what, so it be wholesome food--a green Banbury cheese, some simnel bread
and oat-cakes; a pudding, hark 'e, sweet and full of plums, with honey
and a pasty--a meat pasty, marry, a pasty made of fat and toothsome
eels; and moreover, fellow, ale to wash it down--none of thy penny ale,
mind ye, too weak to run out of the spigot, but snapping good brew--dost
take me?--with beef and mustard, tripe, herring, and a good fat capon
broiled to a turn!"

The innkeeper gaped like a fish.

"How now, sirrah? Dost think I cannot pay thy score?" quoth Carew,
sharply.

"Nay, nay," stammered the host; "but, sir, where--where will ye put it
all without bursting into bits?"

"Be off with thee!" cried Carew, sharply. "That is my affair. Nay,
Nick," said he, laughing at the boy's, astonished look; "we shall not
burst. What we do not have to-night we'll have in the morning. 'Tis the
way with these inns,--to feed the early birds with scraps,--so the more
we leave from supper the more we'll have for breakfast. And thou wilt
need a good breakfast to ride on all day long."

"Ride?" exclaimed Nick. "Why, sir, I was minded to walk back to
Stratford, and keep my gold rose-noble whole."

"Walk?" cried the master-player, scornfully. "Thou, with thy golden
throat? Nay, Nicholas, thou shalt ride to-morrow like a very king, if I
have to pay for the horse myself, twelvepence the day!" and with that he
began chuckling as if it were a joke.

B