WHITEFRIARS.

CHAPTER I.

THE TOWER.

Ir was drawing nigh sunset on the eve of September 1, A. D. 1667, a date of terrible omen to the great city, within whose walls the opening events of our history took place. London lay bathed in a glorious autumnal sun, and was sinking into that busy tranquillity which marks the close of labour in the great hives of human industry. Shops were closing in all security, the burgher's early supper smoked on the table, the watch set their rounds on

the city walls, and gamesome 'prentices sallied forth on their evening recreations.

The river presented an aspect of peculiar tranquillity. It was the Sabbath eve, a day held scrupulously sacred by the great mass of the people, which was still puritan. The immense fleet of merchantmen from every nation stretched along the river; the barges and gilded wherries of the citizens, decorated with streamers and flags, were drawn up along the quays and wharfs, as if they, too, had a right to their seventh day's rest.

The gray ramparts and turrets of the Tower were lighted up with Italian brilliancy, in the rich colours of the sunset, and were decked out in holiday splendour, with innumerable banderols, above which floated, on the highest tower, the gorgeous banner of England. The great bell, which usually summoned the inhabitants within the fortress limits before the gates closed, was tolling, and divers belated persons were hurrying towards them.

Among these, riding at a jaded pace, appeared a solitary horseman. He was mounted on a powerful nag, whose original colour was probably white, but it was at present a dirty brown, and splashed and travel-stained from head to heel. The harness was

strong and heavy, according to the fashion of the period, and the rider was a tall, well-made man, who wore a high hat with feathers, a travelling-cloak of scarlet, and huge jack-boots with long spurs. His under-dress, which seemed a sort of livery of orangecoloured cloth slashed with silver, was visible, from the mantle having slipped off his left shoulder, as if to cover a kind of bundle which he carried. A pair of very large pistols, or rather blunderbusses, decked his holsters-ornaments by no means superfluous in that enterprising age, when so many "gentlemen" picked up a livelihood as attorneys-errant. In fact, the whole appearance of the rider was that of a dashing retainer to some noble house, only he wore no badge, and that part of the breast which is usually decked, was patched over with new velvet. Still his air was so jaunty and bold, that the warder whom he addressed at the postern respectfully sank his partisan.

"Hollo, brother!-canst tell me if Master Lieutenant be in the Tower; and if so, where a man must seek who hath affair with him ?"

"Art from over sea?-methinks thy tongue smacks something popishly,” replied the warder. "If my English be good enough to be under

stood, trouble thyself no further," said the stranger, haughtily. "If not, I shall not mend it for so poor a customer. And now, prithee, let me pass. I have business with thy betters, which may not be delayed."

"Hast thou the pass-word, good friend?" returned the warder, grasping his weapon, and seeming to eye both horse and man with no prejudice in favour of either.

"No, but I bear an order from the council to

your lieutenant, sealed with the king's seal, which I must deliver in person to his honour. Here's warranty enough, companion." And the stranger produced a paper, directed as he had affirmed, which he thrust under the warder's gaze.

"Pass!" was the reply, and the cavalier, touching his horse with the spur, entered the gate. He found himself in a small quadrangle, hemmed in by lofty battlements, in which not a single human being seemed stirring. The clatter of his horse's hoofs, however, almost instantly attracted attention. An old man popped his head out of a barred window above, and after listening to the horseman's account of his object, civilly offered to guide him to the lieutenant's presence.

A hale-looking veteran, with cheeks as ruddy as apples, though his hair was nearly white, now made his appearance. He stated, however, that the lieutenant, Sir John Robinson, was at supper with some friends, and that if the business were not very pressing it would be better to wait till his honour had done, offering meanwhile a stoup of canary and a seat by a good fire to the stranger, who returned his thanks for this civility in a somewhat foreign tone and manner, but declared that his errand required immediate dispatch. Then carelessly throwing the reins to the old man,

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Prithee," he said, with an easy air of superiority" prithee, father gray beard, hold my nag's head, lest I stumble and break my youngster's skull, and thereby waste a soul which may be valuable when it is grown."

"What youngster, friend? I see none," said the old man.

"Look here then; thou art old, but didst ever see a prettier creature?" said the cavalier, lifting his cloak, and revealing a young child nestling asleep in its warmth.

"Hast been in heaven kidnapping cherubs ?"