s of my lord's link-men, who, in goodly number, fully armed,
carrying flaming torches whose lurid dancing light shone through the
blinding snow, appeared at a distance to be a party of ancient saints
come forth from their tombs to indulge in a ghostly frolic under cover
of the night. The voices of the men, falling upon the snow-laden air,
sounded dull and echo-less as they heralded the approach of a chair to
some sharp turn or gateway. An armed escort in those days was no mark
of royalty or distinction, for it was not well or safe for men to
travel the streets alone after nightfall, as many a sinister face and
cloaked form lurked hid in the shadow of secluded corners and dark
by-ways, awaiting opportunity to cut the purse, or the throat, as need
be, of the solitary wayfarer.

Numbers were no guarantee of escaping unmolested; for of late the
rogues had become so bold that it was a common thing for a party of
gentlemen to be attacked successfully, as the ruffians mustered in
their ranks many soldiers of fortune who had served in Flanders,
France and Spain, and were well versed in the play of both sword and
dagger. These acts of robbery and murder were confined to no one
locality, but the vagabonds who perpetrated the deeds had haunts and
places of common rendezvous, and as night fell, these dens poured
forth upon the town their murder-bent crews.

In one of the most narrow and crooked of streets, often lost amid the
winding of greater thoroughfares, and safely hidden from the watchful
eyes of the King's soldiers, was situated a tavern, patronized for the
most part by those who replenished their purses when low, by running
some belated traveler through the back, and taking what money he had.
This tavern was famous among its patrons for its mulled ale, the like
of which, they swore could not be found in all London. To those who
had not partaken of this famous beverage, and knew not the inn by
reputation, its business was made known by a swinging sign, upon
which, very indifferently executed, was the figure of a leopard, and,
further, as if the artist had not sufficient confidence in his powers
of portrayal, he had printed in large and uncertain letters, "At the
sign of the Leopard may be found all manner of goodly cheer and
comfort." Below this evidence of what might be found within, a small
and narrow doorway gave entrance to the hostelry. Inside, a larger
room than the outer aspect of the place indicated, awaited the gue