have the best in the town," added the host; "there is nothing
like it in all London."

This was quite a new idea, and Sir George scratched his head, as if
by so doing he might facilitate his judgment, and then he did what so
many other troubled ones have done, both before his time and since,
he sought to drown his troubles by gorging himself with his favourite
liquor.

"Ha! well," he muttered, "the ale is good, as London ale goes, I trow,
but----"

"It is indeed," added the tavern-keeper promptly. "There's none
better, though I say it."

"But I think I will have cider," continued the baron, not heeding the
interruption.

"I will fetch it myself," exclaimed the proprietor of the Cock; "and
sure I am, 'twill be the best that ever you have tasted."

"Nay, hold," interrupted Sir George, "I will go with thee. I will
trust none to spice my drink except it be Lady Maude, or Dorothy. I
will go with thee and spice it myself."

"And I will have some simple sack," said Sir Thomas.

Sir George Vernon and the landlord descended the ladder, and threaded
their way through the crowd into the tavern, while Sir Thomas Stanley,
left to his own devices, continued to lie quietly down upon his couch
of straw, watching with intense interest the progress of the play.

Edmund, meanwhile, hearing no one stirring, and not being in a
position to see, concluded that all three had descended together, and
that he was the sole occupant of the room. He waited for a moment or
two, and then, as the silence confirmed him in his opinion, he began
to make strenuous efforts to free himself. There was no sign made
in response to the noise he made in the attempt, and, without any
interruption, he released himself from his uncomfortable position.

Slowly and painfully he raised himself up, but as he reached the top,
the thrill of triumph to which his new-born hopes of liberty had given
birth, died away, and a sigh of dismay escaped him as he discovered
that he was not alone.

For a time he stood perfectly motionless, too terrified to advance,
and too paralysed by fear to regain his hiding-place. Fortunately,
however, for him, Sir Thomas Stanley's back was turned towards him,
and so intently had he fixed his attention upon the scene which was
being acted on the stage before him, that he was in complete ignorance
of the events which were transpiring in his rear. Edmund wistfully
cast a look at the ladder which protruded temptingly through the
trap-