ll, I will do what I meant to
do to-morrow--_die_. But,' he went on, throwing back his head with the
proud gesture peculiar to him, 'I can turn a penny to more purpose in
London than here. I have been paid for my contributions to the _Town
and Country Magazine_, and the _Middlesex Journal_ will take what I
write and be glad. Then I have all my "AElla"--"_AElla_,"' he repeated, 'I
set great store by "AElla"--money will be sure to come for that and "The
Tournament." But come and see my mother, Miss Palmer, next week, and we
will have a parting visit together to the grand old church, and I will
tell you more. Oh, I am not crushed yet--not I! I have heaps of literary
stuff which may turn into gold, and I can say,--

Hope, holy sister, sweeping through the sky,
In crown of gold and robe of lily white,
Which far abroad in gentle air doth fly,
Meeting from distance the enjoyous sight,
Albeit oft thou takest thy high flight
Shrouded in mist and with thy blinded eyne.

'Yes, holy sister,' he repeated, 'I clasp thee to my heart, and away and
away to London.'

'These are beautiful words,' Bryda said; 'are they yours?'

'Mine? yes, they are mine. Despair came to me in black guise when I went
to old Burgum, and he vowed he had not sixpence to give me. And as to
lend money--who would lend to a beggar? Not Burgum; he is a thrifty soul
though he comes of the grand race of De Bergheim, of which he is mighty
proud, poor fool!' And Chatterton indulged in a fit of laughter,
probably remembering how easily the honest pewterer had been gulled by
the story of his noble ancestry, for which he had given him a crown
piece.

The laugh was strange, and not a melodious sound, and almost at the same
moment Mrs Symes and the footboy came into the kitchen.

'Laughing, are you?' she said. 'You will have to laugh on the wrong side
of your mouth, young man. Why, the folks are all talking of you and your
wickedness. Come, I hear you have notice to quit--be off. And as to you,
Miss Palmer, I would take care what you have to do with this _limb_, for
he is a limb and no mistake--a real limb of the Evil One.'

Chatterton did not seem much affected by Mrs Symes' tirade. He made a
graceful bow as he left the kitchen for the last time, and with 'We
shall meet again, Miss Palmer, so whispers the holy maid we spoke of
just now,' he was gone.

But although Chatterton could be indifferent to the gibes of Mrs Symes
he was by n