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the watch spy thee. Th’ art a plain fool to stand here quibbling thus, though ’t is to be expected, since thou wert ever quicker of thy tongue than thy wit. But who’s thy fellow?”

‘‘Nay, thou old shrew, open to us. He is to be one of us, though a London man by birth.”

“One of us, say’st thou? Enter and welcome, then, young sir. Mother Taylor bids thee welcome. One of us? ’T is the more pity so few of the gentlemen are left in port.”

“The Old One?”

"He hath sailed long since.” She closed the door behind them, and the three stood together in the dark passage. ‘‘Hast money?”

“Not a groat.”

She sighed heavily. ‘‘I shall be ruined. Seven o’ the gentlemen ha’ sailed owing me.”

“Yea, thou old shrew, had I a half — nay, had I the tenth part of the gold thou hast taken from us and laid away wherever thy hiding-places are, I’d go no more to sea. But thou know’st what thou know’st, and there ’s not one among us but will pay his score. The wonder is that of them thou could’st hang by a word none has slit thy scrawny throat.”

‘‘Aye, they pay, they pay. And the gentlemen bear Mother Taylor nought but love. How else could they do their business but for good Mother Taylor?” She led them into a little back room where there was a fire and a singing kettle; and as she scuttled with a crooked, nimble gait from one window to another to make sure that every shutter was fast closed, in her cracked old voice she bade them sit.

To his prudent companion, whose quick glance was