Chapter 11

[_2nd Grooves._]

_GURTON'S Ale House._

_Host and Guests._

_Host._ So they say the king is to die. Well, his head hath swung at my door many a year, and I cannot say but that there was custom. Good day to you, Master Gilead Stubbs, you have a good mile to walk. Shall the boy go with you?

_Mast. Stubbs._ Nay! nay! I thank you, I will with Master Jesson here. You have lost the Captain. Where is he?--

_Host._ What, that Wyckoff? Gone, and his score left unpaid. Moreover, I think 'twas he that hid my keys.

_A Guest._ Ah! how was it?

_Host._ I have never lost them before. It was in my secret place, and yon Wyckoff had to do with it. He was drunk the morning I missed them without being served. I am glad he is gone.

_Guests._ Good day, Master Newborn, good day.

_Host._ The Lord be with ye; [_Exeunt Guests._] and make sound vessels of ye! [_Aside._] for the holding of good liquor. This is the best company I have had for long. How restless I feel. I cannot help thinking of my dream, that Wyckoff and the other would have slain me, and 'twas in this very room. Let me see, I dreamt too they hid something--this plank seems loose. I could fancy now this were the fag-end of my dream--[_Lifts the Plank._] What is here?--As I live, my keys, and a bundle of papers.-- [_Reads._] "To Master Arthur Walton?" Why, he hath not been here, for long. If now it 'twere Basil his brother and the Captain had left them here--from Sir Marmaduke Langdale too. Here is something wrong. I feel choked. Let me put them back. Why now, I could swear I had seen them placed there. It is very odd. And to think of my keys too. I could fancy they were only skeletons. Yet I know their jingle well. I'll to my brewer now, and, as there is no one here, I say [_looks round_] God keep the poor king's head on his shoulders, and may it be long ere he die on his bier! [_Exit, R._]