"
"Hive of traders! Truly the great merchants of the Cheap would be
honoured. Have they stung you, then, already, young bumpkin from the
countryside, for such I write you down? But what bee do you seek? Stay,
now, let me guess. Is it a certain old knave named John Grimmer, who
trades in gold and jewels and other precious things and who, if he had
his deserts, should be jail?"
"Aye, aye, that's the man," I said.
"Surely he also will be honoured," exclaimed the old fellow with a
cackle. "He's a friend of mine and I will tell him the jest."
"If you would tell me where to find him it would be more seasonable."
"All in good time. But first, young sir, where did you get that fine
armour? If you stole it, it should be better hid."
"Stole it!" I began in wrath. "Am I a London chapman----?"
"I think not, though you may be before all is done, for who knows what
vile tricks Fortune will play us? Well, if you did not steal it, mayhap
you slew the wearer and are a murderer, for I see black blood on the
steel."
"Murderer!" I gasped.
"Aye, just as you say John Grimmer is a knave.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95