d set
before me a brave leg of pork, with ale to keep it in countenance, I
forgave him his ugly face, and fell to without more ado. When I came to
pay him, and pulled out the purse my master had given me, he grew
monstrous civil, and offered to take me across the ferry himself.

Which he did, with one of his men. And, half-way across, the two set
upon me with one accord, and thought to rob me. But I, being new to
travel, and so suspecting everybody, was ready for them, and knocked
their heads soundly together for their pains. I also lightened the boat
of my host's servant, bidding him get to shore some other way. So my
host, fearing a like ducking for himself, took me over quietly enough,
and never asked a fare.

From there I floundered through the swamps, with the river on my right
hand, till I came to Kingston, where it was not long till I found Master
Udal's house.

He was a little grave man, whom I might have swallowed at a gulp, and
yet he had an air about him I durst not disobey, and an eye which, when
I caught it, made me think of my sins. He asked me many questions about
Master Walgrave and his manner of life, which I answered plainly, all
except one or more that concerned the secret press in the cellar.

"Your master keepeth one press out of sight?" said he.

"If that be so," said I, "'tis no wonder if I know nothing of it."

He smiled.

"Then, he labours at it himself, without your aid?"

"If you say so, sir, no doubt but he does."

Master Udal smiled again.

"Thou'rt good at a secret, lad, and I'll tempt thee no more."

Whereupon he did what was worse, and began to question me about my own
ways, and that searchingly, so that I was fain to plead weariness, and
asked for my bed. This was even worse; for, being a lonely man, he had
but one bed in the house, and that was his own. And that he might have
the more of my company, he came to bed too.

He was a good man--this Master Udal--for he prayed long with me at the
bedside, and talked comfortingly to me about my home, and the snares of
my city life. But with his grave talk he would not let me rest. Even
when we lay in bed, and it was too dark to see his face, I felt his eye
upon me still, and was fain to confess myself to him, like a Papist to
his priest. But when I told him tremblingly that I loved a maiden, he
gave a grunt of displeasure and turned over on his side, and left me in
peace.

And so that fair maiden, little as she knew i