d to change the
time-honoured sign of the inn, and to substitute for it the Prince of
Wales's Feathers. On this point he came into conflict with the owner of the
property, and, having behaved very violently, received notice that his
lease, just expiring, would not be renewed. Whereupon what should Mr.
Fouracres do but purchase land and begin to build for himself an hotel
twice as large as that he must shortly quit. On this venture he used all,
and more than all, his means, and, as every one had prophesied, he was soon
a ruined man. In less than three years from the fatal day he turned his
back upon the town where he had known respect and prosperity, and went
forth to earn his living as best he could. After troublous wanderings, on
which he was accompanied by his daughter, faithful and devoted, though she
had her doubts on a certain subject, the decayed publican at length found a
place of rest. A small legacy from a relative had put it in his power to
make a new, though humble, beginning in business; he established himself at
the Pig and Whistle.

The condition in which he had to-day been discovered by Mr. Ruddiman was
not habitual with him. Once a month, perhaps, his melancholy thoughts drove
him to the bottle; for the most part he led a sullen, brooding life,
indifferent to the state of his affairs, and only animated when he found a
new and appreciative listener to the story of his wrongs. That he had been
grievously wronged was Mr. Fouracres' immutable conviction. Not by His
Royal Highness; the Prince knew nothing of the strange conspiracy which had
resulted in Fouracres' ruin; letters addressed to His Royal Highness were
evidently intercepted by underlings, and never came before the royal eyes.
Again and again had Mr. Fouracres written long statements of his case, and
petitioned for an audience. He was now resolved to adopt other methods; he
would use the first opportunity of approaching the Prince's person, and
lifting up his voice where he could not but be heard. He sought no vulgar
gain; his only desire was to have this fact recognised, that he had,
indeed, entertained the Prince, and so put to shame all his scornful
enemies. And now the desired occasion offered itself. In the month of
September His Royal Highness would be a guest at Woodbury Manor, distant
only some couple of miles from the Pig and Whistle. It was the excitement
of such a prospect which had led Mr. Fouracres to undue indulgence under
the apple-tre