He was a man of simple nature, and the
picture of Hathelsborough without Spizey and his livery appalled him.

"Bless me!" he exclaimed.

"To be sure!" said Spizey. "It's beyond comprehension! To abolish
me!--what, in a manner of speaking, has existed I don't know how long. I
ain't a man--I'm a office! Who'd cry things that was lost--at that there
Cross? Who'd pull the big bell on great occasions, and carry round the
little 'un when there was proclamations to be made? Who'd walk in front
o' the Mayor's procession, with the Mace--what was give to this here
town by King Henry VII, his very self? Abolish me? Why, it's as bad as
talking about abolishing the Bible!"

"It's the age for that sort of thing," remarked Bunning. "I seen a deal
of it in the Army. Abolished all sorts o' things, they have, there. I
never seen no good come of it, neither. I'm all for keeping up the good
old things--can't better 'em, in my opinion. And, as you say, that there
mace of ours--'tis ancient!"

"Nobody but one o' these here Radicals and levellers could talk o' doing
away with such proper institutions," affirmed Spizey. "But I tell
yer--I've heard of it. He said--but you'd scarce believe it!--there was
no need for a town crier, nor a bellman, and, as for this mace, it could
be carried on Mayor's Day by a policeman! Fancy that, now--our mace
carried by a policeman!"

"Dear, dear!" said Bunning. "Don't seem to fit in, that! However," he
added consolingly, "if they did abolish you, you'd no doubt get a
handsome pension."

"Pension!" exclaimed Spizey. "That's a detail!--it's the office I'm
a-considering of. What this here free and ancient borough 'ud look
like, without me, I cannot think!"

He shook his head and went sadly away, and Bunning, suddenly remembering
that it was about his supper-time, prepared to retreat into the room
which he and his wife shared, at the end of the stone hall. But as he
entered the gates, a quick firm footstep sounded behind him, and he
turned to see a smart, alert-looking young man approaching. Bunning
recognized him as a stranger whom he had seen once or twice before, at
intervals, in company with Wallingford. For the second time that night
he saluted.

"Looking for the Mayor, sir?" he asked, throwing the gate open. "His
Worship's upstairs--I was to show you up. Mr. Brent, isn't it, sir?"

"Right!" replied the other. "My cousin left word I was to join him here.
Whereabouts is he in this old fortress of you