. The forester out from the west felt
his heart beating rapidly, his ears warming and tingling, and his right
hand fidgeting with the handle of his sword. His companion could not
keep still, and hot ejaculations sprang from his lips. He was a true
Devon man of that roaring time, sailor, patriot, and pirate all rolled
into one.

"By my beard, Master Morgan," he gasped, "I have been feeling ill and
full of strange qualms and sinkings these many days past. 'Twas an
active spirit rebelling against imprisonment in an idle body. I must
to sea again--this dalliance in towns and in the company of sleek
shopkeepers and peacock-garbed gallants is slow death to a fellow of
mettle. I must get me down to Plymouth again, and join any bold
captain that hath a mind to turn his ship westward ho!"

Morgan sighed. "Bones o' me!" he exclaimed, "the parson hath stirred
something within my bosom also."

The sermon--if such it could be called--being ended, the two young men
went with the crowd through the church door, and into the dim and lofty
transept. And what a crowd it was to find in London's principal
church! The passage through the building from north to south was a
public thoroughfare. Porters, hucksters, errand boys went through with
basket and handbarrow, passing across aisles and nave before the very
screen that shut in choir and altar. Pedlars stood against the tall
pillars, and pushed the sale of their wares. Men bought and sold and
bargained as in the churchyard outside or Chepe beyond. Servants stood
for hire; bravoes lurked behind the gray stone columns in dark corners,
ready to take the price of blood from any hand that offered it. Broken
men, needy adventurers, dissolute women--all had their regular stations
in the sacred building, which was fair, market, and general rendezvous
for every class and trade, legitimate or illegitimate, that had its
footing in London Town.

Master Jeffreys elbowed his way into the nave and strode down the
middle aisle, Morgan at his heels, full of astonishment and healthy
country disgust. Any gallant who came strutting along to show his fine
feathers received scant courtesy or elbow-room from the indignant
forester. He thrust more than one roughly aside, without so much as a
"by your leave," and his angry face, huge frame, and athletic build
forced the hustled ones to keep civil tongues in their heads. Near the
western door a knot of brown-faced, lean-looking men were standin