The Panchronicon Part 46

He thought it wise to reconnoitre before proceeding farther, and, peeping through the small leaded panes, he found he could survey the entire apartment.

The room into which Droop stood gazing was the common tap-room of the inn, at that moment apparently the scene of a brisk altercation.

To the left of the great brick fireplace, a large pewter mug in his right hand, an immensely fat man was seated. He was clad as became a cavalier, although in sober colors, and his att.i.tude was suggestive of defence, his head being drawn far back to avoid contact with a closed fist held suggestively before his face. The fist was that of a woman who, standing before the fire with her other hand resting on her hip, was evidently delivering her sentiments in no gentle terms.

A long table, black with age and use, stood parallel to the right-hand wall, and behind this three men were sitting with mugs before them, eying the disputants with evident interest. To the left a large s.p.a.ce was devoted to three or four bulky casks, and here an ap.r.o.ned drawer sat astride of a rush-bottomed chair, grinning delightedly and exchanging nods and winks from time to time with an impish, undersized lad who lay on his stomach on a wine-b.u.t.t with his head craning forward over the edge.

Only an occasional word reached the watcher at the window, but among these few he recognized a number which were far more forcible than decent. He drew back, shook his head, and then slowly returned to the door and looked up.

Yes--he had made no mistake. Above his head there swung the sign of the Boar's Head. And yet--was it likely or even possible that Sir Percevall Hart could make such a vulgar haunt as this his headquarters? Sir Percevall--the Queen's harbinger and the friend of the Prime Minister!

With a sinking heart and a face clouded with anxiety, Droop propped his bicycle against the wall within the pa.s.sage and resolutely raised the heavy latch.

To his surprise, instead of the torrent of words which he had expected to hear when he opened the door, complete silence reigned as he entered. The fat man in the chair by the fire was still leaning backward, but his tankard was now inverted above his head, and a glance showed that his companions at the long table were similarly employed.

Copernicus turned about and closed the door very carefully, unwilling to break the profound silence. Then he tiptoed his way to the fire, and leaning forward rubbed his hands before the crackling logs, nervously conscious of six pairs of eyes concentrated upon his back. Droop was not unfamiliar with the bar-rooms of such a city as Boston, but he found an Elizabethan tavern a very different sort of place. So, although already warmer than desirable, he could only stand half bent before a fire all too hot and wonder what he should do next.

Finally he mustered courage enough to turn about and survey with shamefaced mien the tavern interior. As he turned the four guests dropped their eyes with painful unanimity and the drawer fell to scouring a pewter mug with his ap.r.o.n. Only the boy perched on the cask kept his eyes obstinately fixed on the stranger.

Droop now noticed for the first time that behind the casks there was a snug recess containing a table and two well-worn benches, evidently intended for the entertainment of guests desirous of a _tete-a-tete_.

Thither he at once directed his steps, and seating himself upon one of the benches, looked about him for a bell. He could hear the three men at the long table whispering busily, and could see that they had their heads together.

The fat man stirred in his chair with a rolling motion.

"Drawer!" he called.

"Here!" cried the drawer, bustling up to the fire.

"A second tankard of that same sack, boy. Bustle, bustle!"

"I must first to my mistress, sir," was the reply. "Nothing for credit, sir, save by permission."

"A pox upon thee!" growled the thirsty man. "On thee and thy mistress, too!"

Muttering and shaking his head, the ponderous guest stretched forth his legs, closed his eyes, and composed himself for a nap.

The drawer tipped a wink to the grinning pot-boy on the cask, and then bustled over to Droop's table, which he proceeded to wipe vigorously with his ap.r.o.n.

"Did you call, sir?" he said.

"Yes," said Copernicus. "Bring me a schooner of light lager."

The drawer's busy ap.r.o.n hand stopped at once and its owner leaned hard on the table.

"What command gave you, sir?" he said.

"Marry--a schooner of lager--light, forsooth!" Droop repeated.

"Cry you mercy, sir," said the drawer, straightening up, "this be the Boar's Head Tavern, sir. What may your worship require by way of food and drink?"

"These old-timers beat all creation for ignorance," muttered Droop.

Then, looking up into the man's face, he called for one drink after another, watching hopefully for some sign of answering intelligence.

"Give me a Scotch high-ball. No? Then a gin sling. Hot Tom and Jerry, then. Marry, an egg flip, i' faith! Ain't got 'em? Get me a brandy smash--a sherry cobbler--a gin rickey--rock and rye--a whisky sour--a mint julep! What! Nothin'? What in thunder _do_ ye sell, then?"

The drawer scratched his head, and then grinned suddenly and gave vent to a dry laugh.

"Well said! Well said, master! The jest is a merry one--call me a Jew else!" Then, sobering as briskly as he had taken to laughing: "Will you have a cup of sack, master, to settle the stomach after fasting--or a drop of Canary or Xeres or a mug of ale, perchance----"

"That's right, by my halidom!" Droop broke in. "Bring me some ale, waiter."

The drawer whisked away and returned in a few moments with a huge power tankard topped with a snowy foam.

"That's the stuff!" said Droop, smacking his lips. He half-emptied the beaker, and then, turning to the drawer:

"Can you tell me," he said, "if I can find a man by the name of Hart here--Sir Percevall Hart?"

"Sir Percevall," said the drawer, in an undertone. "Why, there's your man, master. The fat knight snoring by yon fire."

"What!" exclaimed Droop. "The man who--" He broke off and stared awhile in silence. Finally, shaking his head: "Never would have thought it!" he said.

Copernicus lapsed into meditation and the drawer withdrew. At length Droop roused himself with a shake.

"Won't do no good to set here doin' nothin'," he muttered. Then, swallowing the remainder of his ale, he drew his letter of introduction from his pocket and walked back to the fireplace.

The knight, who was not sleeping very soundly, slightly opened one eye, and to his surprise, beheld a letter which Droop held almost under his nose.

Sitting up straight and now fully awake, Sir Percevall stared first at Copernicus and then at the letter.

"A letter!" he exclaimed. "For me?"

"Verily, yea," Droop replied, very politely.

The knight opened the letter slowly and turned so that the light from a window fell full upon it.

"What's here!" he exclaimed. "This direction is to my Lord Burleigh."

"Yep--oh, yes, yea!" said Droop, confusedly. "But you was to read it--peruse it, you wot--Bacon said as much. He said you knew the lord and could take me around, forsooth, and sorter interduce me, ye see."

With leisurely gravity, Sir Percevall slowly read the note, and then, returning it with a polite gesture:

"This letter hath reference to certain monopolies," he said. "My cousin Bacon doth write in high terms of your skill and high merit, Master--Master----"

"Droop, sir. Copernicus Droop's my name."

"Ah, yes! And the service you require--? I beg your indulgence, but, sooth to say, being nigh starved of late in this tavern of ill repute, my poor wits have grown fat. I am slow of apprehension, Master Wither----"

"Droop, sir--Droop."